The Dark Side Of The Moon Series: Taken (Book 1)
by Mischief Not Yet Managed
Summary: Darkness flooded the world. The moon, but a shadow. The goddess who kept it, taken. All that's left is panic, mystery, paranoia, and the few clues to go off of in order to figure out what's really going on. But does anyone actually know anything? How do you know who to trust when you don't know yourself? How do you move on when you can't accept the past? What's the point anymore?
1. Surrender The Night

**The Dark Side of the Moon Series: Taken (Book 1)**

**Part 1: Lieutenant of the Shattered**

**Chapter 1: Surrender The Night**

* * *

_Somewhere in the forests of Pennsylvania, the Hunters of Artemis campsite_

_October 7th, 7:46 p.m._

_Thalia Grace, Daughter of Zeus, Lieutenant of Artemis_

* * *

My name's Thalia and I'm eternally 15 years and 364 days old.

I joined the Hunt, if you're wondering how the hell that's possible. But I didn't do it for the immortality, though that's a pretty sweet addition. I wanted a family, I wanted out of the prophecy, I wanted to forget Luke, sure. But also, I guess I didn't really feel like being known as the girl that was turned into a tree; Pine Cone Face isn't a very flattering nickname. I'm sure you can understand. I wanted out, I wanted to get away from all the drama and chaos that came with being a demigod at Camp Half-Blood in exchange for a life as peaceful for a daughter of Zeus as I could get. I like the Hunt; it's nice to just sort of go with the flow and relax. Well, most days anyway. But that's the immortality coming into play. Everything seems really slowed down; it makes it so much easier to handle things.

Before Zoe Nightshade's quest, I don't think I ever would have dreamed of becoming a huntress. But something changed. I don't even know what exactly. If I had to sum it up, I'd say that the power scared me. Would I have fallen spell to Kronos? Wouldn't anyone else have besides Percy? Not only that, but there was this strange feeling, like the Fates were willing me to follow the path of Artemis. Weird, but that's how it was. And I know why now too. It's because the prophecy was never meant to be mine. Never, in any version of reality, would I have been the child of the Big Three that would make that possibly fatal choice that Percy made three years ago. Wow. It's been three years already; it's still hard to believe Annabeth's older than me, and even little Nico di Angelo wasn't so little anymore.

The world sort of existed away from the Hunt, still there, just not my immediate reality. It was mind blowing really.

And even when Artemis had asked me to take that oath, I never dreamed that I'd become her lieutenant, and especially not right away. There were plenty of girls in the Hunt with far more experience than I, but no. I never asked why I had been made Lieutenant of the Hunter's of Artemis so rashly, but I did wonder. And forever I'd wonder, as, of course, I probably would never get around to asking.

As her lieutenant, I had my own tent, which I'd thought was very generous of Artemis as we had a _lot _of girls in the Hunt now. What were our numbers at? 32? 33? We were our own small army of demigods, mortals, nymphs, Titan-spawn, you name it. So it was nice to have a place here that was all my own, sort of like Zeus' Fist at camp. I know that that worthless pile of rocks wasn't _really_ mine, but it was named after my father, so I figured it was partially mine. They were sanctuaries, the few places I could be alone.

So at nightfall, that's where I retreated. And as I pushed aside the flap of my tent, it really did feel like an escape from the duties and stresses of being lieutenant. The smell wasn't precisely homey, but familiar and comforting, particularly when I unlaced my muddy boots and tossed them aside to stink up the far corner, because that's where I always threw them. And the air was always thicker; it was harder to breathe in this enclosed space when the rest of the time I'm out in the vast forest, though my tent was in no way small, especially when compared to the others (excluding Artemis's).

It sort of resembled a first mate's quarters on a ship: nowhere near as grand as the captain's, but still better than the rest of the crew's. My white sheeted bed of wood was cast off into the opposite corner as my desk, which had notes, battle strategies, and a lantern atop it. At the foot of my bed was an antique chest which held an extra change of clothes or two, a few books, and the accessories I was permitted to wear with my hunter's uniform. Small demigod necessities such as nectar, ambrosia, weapons, rope and duct tape, and a pouch of golden drachma were stored in the other chest, located right next to the entrance. Then there was this huge open space in the middle which I used for private, individual training. Seeing as it was a tent, there were no windows.

I tore off my socks and threw them in the corner with my big black 'biker' boots. Huh. Big black biker boots. That's hard to say. But anyway, I was exhausted from today's completed mission. We'd been tracking some ancient monster or other for the past two weeks, and we'd finally managed to catch up to and kill it. Thank the gods they turned to dust, or we'd have had a massive cleaning job to attend to.

I flopped down onto my bed and just laid there for a little while, my eyes drifting shut of their own accord. Being immortal, you'd think I wouldn't get tired. Ha! It was true that I needed less sleep than a regular person, but man, when I was tired, I was already out like a light. So I grabbed the pillow and shoved my head under it, about to fall asleep when I heard the trading of screamed insults in the next tent over. I groaned and rolled to my back. Screw peaceful. There's always something to do, isn't there?

I dragged myself off of my comfy bed and walked barefoot out into the twilit clearing in which we'd set up camp. The sky truly was magnificent when afternoon transitioned to evening. All the colors and blends and the moon and sun out in the sky together in harmony and the clouds spaced just right and the cool air of fall... magnificent It was definitely my time of day, and my type of weather. But I didn't have too long to spend admiring the sky, as Justina and Maggie's yelling increased volume and maliciousness just then. I quickened my pace until I stood outside their tent and marched in, too irritated and cranky to bother wondering if just storming in was the best option.

It was worse than I had thought, but not as bad as they got sometimes. Justina, the smaller yet faster of the two, was running in circles with something clutched tightly to her chest, something I'm guessing belonged to Maggie, who was trailing after her bunk mate doing the majority of the screaming. I trudged over to the center of the room and yelled for silence; usually, that'd shut everyone up. But now neither of them so much as flinched. I could have walked in on stilts wearing a big puffy dress and goggles to announce I was marrying Apollo with a bullhorn; they wouldn't have noticed. So, deciding my effort would be wasted and my sleep was far superior, I backed out of their tent, rubbing my tired eyes. Why did Artemis make _them_ partners? Maybe it was because they were so different, or they were wickedly lethal when they fought as a team. Only Artemis could ever really know I suppose.

On natural instinct, I surveyed the campsite. The tents were arranged in a crescent formation, Artemis's tent being the tip of the moon, followed by mine, then Justina and Maggie's on my other side, and then Alexia and Riley's, and so on ans so on. The wolves sat or stood guard spread out along the invisible line that would have created the rest of the circle, some of them pacing back and forth; the wolves got restless a lot. A fire was going in the middle of the campsite, a young girl attending it, maybe eight or nine. The woods were... Wait a minute...

I walked closer to the roaring fire, studying it's flames as they slunk into the sky, higher than they should have been able to before dispersing, glowing more richly red than they should have been. Under normal circumstances, I would have overlooked this, and my eyes would have simply slid right over the girl tending the fire. But Artemis had a strict policy on hanging around outside of the tents when not on duty, something about the enemy knowing exactly where you were and what you were doing. Personally, I think she just didn't want too many teenager girls out and about and conversing with each other. Plus, the fire was enchanted so that Artemis would just wave her hand and the fire would ignite or dispel; it didn't _need_ to be tended.

I stood a few yards away from the girl, her long brown hair was braided down her back, which was to me. Oddly, I got the feeling I should know her... So I took an educated guess. "Lady Hestia?"

Hestia's eyes burned red with raw power, which would have been a tad concerning had it not been for the genuine smile she gave me over her shoulder. "Hello, Thalia Grace." She glanced around the campsite, seemingly trying to decide something. "Sit." I had a feeling that wasn't it.

But nonetheless, I took a place next to her at the fire side, mimicking her by crossing my legs, though I didn't fold my hands in my lap or sit perfectly straight like the goddess of the hearth beside me. I sat awkwardly, not sure what to say and trying to stifle a yawn, but Hestia appeared perfectly content to just quietly examine the fire. After a few minutes however, she noticed my discomfort. Weird, Hestia was probably the only god or goddess that had ever made me nervous.

She casually flicked her middle finger and thumb together; the fire responded by glowing brighter and towering yet another yard higher. "Hmm. The flame still glows here... So. Thalia. How are you fairing?"

"Fairing?" I inquired. "With what exactly?"

She shrugged her delicate shoulders lightly. "Anything. Everything. Life. The Hunt. Family. Friends. I'm here to talk."

I thought about that. She wanted to talk? Uh... no thanks. I wasn't very fond of the sharing and exchanging of pleasantries and information so called "conversation." Huh. I know big words. Who would have guessed? Though it was true that most of the exchanges I have with people end in violence, I knew it'd be extremely hard to get mad at Hestia. All the same, I still gulped. There was something about her that just... unnerved me. I don't know what it was or why it did so, but it made me feel like I was back in the tree. Trapped. And I most certainly did _not_ want to talk. Honestly, I just wanted to go to sleep, no matter how early it still was.

So I surprised myself when I answered calmly, "Fine. And you, Lady Hestia?"

Her red eyes searched mine cautiously, yet she still managed a small smile. "I am well, thank you. Though I wouldn't be so sure about everything else... However, I'd be better if you trusted me. I'm here to talk."

Well, I don't _want_ to talk. Couldn't she see that? Yes, I could tell that she knew I didn't want to talk. And she was trying to make me. But nooooo. Because she was Hestia and all nice and kind and sweet and innocent she just had to disguise that by being polite. Uh-huh, yeah, no; I'm not buying it. It's hard to get mad at Hestia? Screw that. It's hard for anyone _else _to get mad at her. For me, it was hard _not _to. And here's the thing: I didn't even know why I was so mad at her. It was just this... I don't know. But unless I wanted an enemy of one of the only goddesses that were fond of mortals, I'd be damned if I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

So I oh-so-not-stealthily threw the ball back into her side of the court. "You know Lady Hestia, I'm actually really tired. I'm sure you can understand if I'm not up for talking." A look into her glowing flame eyes and I continued quickly, "You sure we, uh, can't direct the conversation to you for a bit? Like, I've noticed that you actually seem to like us demigods. So, yeah, what's the story behind that? And who's your, er... favorite demigod?"

Ugh! What was wrong with me? I don't stutter! Thalia the freaking daughter of Zeus, Lieutenant of Artemis does not stutter... Ugh! Favorite demigod? _Really_?! Seriously, why was I getting so frustrated? So nervous? I was supposed to always have a comeback, think on my feet, know my moves and what I'd say. But she made me... scared. It startled me to realize that for some unknown reason I was scared of one of the nicest goddesses there was. Wow. Where's punk Thalia nowadays? I really miss her.

Hestia laughed. A real laugh that wasn't forced; it'd been a while since I'd heard a laugh like that. "My favorite? Oh my." She laughed again. "I don't think I've ever been asked that before. Most don't want to hear about me. Most want me to hear about them. You're different... or is that just because you're edgy around me? Hmm. Everyone's always on about themselves; no one has time for family anymore." She pondered for a moment. "My favorite demigod is Nico di Angelo."

That startled me; I didn't think the son of Hades was anyone's favorite _anything_. Well, you learn something new every day, I suppose. And, being ADHD like most demigods, I tend to just blurt out what's on my mind. So, I wasn't thinking when I didn't disguise the utter disbelief in my voice. "_Why_?"

And to my surprise, Hestia chuckled. "A few reasons, Thalia. He was the first to talk to me at Camp Half-Blood in many years, for one thing. He's respectful to and respected by most of the gods, whether you'd believe it or not; I guess that has to do with having such an intimidating father who's impossible to please. And..." She sighed, sadly. "I don't believe that anyone besides myself considers him their favorite in any matter. Everyone needs someone, because though we are all extended family, it is rare we all stick together and stand by each other. I'm aware he has a great friend in Percy Jackson and a few others..." She paused, tilting her head slightly. "Are you friends with Nico?" she asked out of the blue. Well, maybe it wasn't so out of the blue. Maybe purple or something.

I yawned. "Well," I said tiredly, "I've only met him in person a few times, so we're probably more like acquaintances."

She nodded absently, and ended the topic with the finality of that action. "Well, Thalia, this little chat has been fun but I must be leaving now. When you are ready to talk, I will find you and you may." She stood up and unfolded her hands, gazing deep into the glowing embers of the fire. It looked as if she were about to step _into_ the fire, when she stopped, and turned her head to look down at me over her shoulder. "I almost forgot, Lord Apollo and Lady Artemis are having..." She searched for the words. "They're having a little talk, one very different from our own, and I thought it might interest you." And with that she _did_ walk into the fire, disappearing in it's flames.

Thank the gods she left. I was fine again now, calm and tired just as I was, no longer nervous for an unknown reason. Unknown reason... hmph. I'd figure that out later, like, tomorrow, because right now I was going to sleep and if anyone disturbed me for the next... Wait, hold up. What was that Hestia said about Apollo and Artemis...?

I got up and surveyed the campsite again. I couldn't hear Justina and Maggie anymore. Night was descending rather quickly now, the sun gone, but some of it's light still reflected from the west. Nothing moved; all was still. It was eerie, strange... I carefully and quietly crept towards the first and largest in the crescent moon shape of tents. I turned so my ear was pressed against it's side, listening. I could hear muted voices whispering fiercely back and forth to each other, arguing just as siblings often do.

I heard Apollo's voice ring loud, "Let me stay here, Artemis!" He groaned, clearly exasperated. "I'm supposed to protect you!"

Artemis' calmer tone was harder to make out. "You of all people know this type of magic can't be fought. And even so, it's not your place."

"But..." His pitch dropped so low, his voice was so broken, so very un-Apollo like, that I wasn't sure if I had heard him correctly, "I have to."

"No, you don't. When the clock strikes midnight tonight, I'll be at my most powerful in the daily cycle. And though I will have already been captured by then, I may be able to fight my way out. But I don't want you to help me; your powers are weaker in the night. What I need is for you to tell the Council what is happening and what has happened. I need you to share the information we've discovered with them." She sighed heavily. "We shouldn't have waited this long anyway... Enlighten your Oracle as well, brother, if you have not already. We'll need great help."

"Artemis, I don't care! I mean, of course I'll do what you ask, the last part anyway, but you can't expect me to just sit here while your life force is being drained!"

"They're after you too, and don't forget that." Her voice was dangerous and stern. "Leave now, the connection is breaking already."

"But..."

"_Go_."

And then there was silence, so I assumed the I.M. connection had been broken.

Woah. That was some serious shit; I don't think I've ever heard Apollo sound so... not himself, like he was actually taking things gravely and with all of his joking manner aside. Artemis was going to be kidnapped? The gods didn't know? What was going on? Why would she keep this from me? What was that about the Oracle? I thought she trusted me! I'm her lieutenant; the Hunt should know. Why didn't she let Apollo help her take on this threat? What _is_ the threat? Why didn't she...?

My thoughts were interrupted by an intensely bright light coming from inside the tent. I rushed inside, throwing the flap of the tent out of my way. But it was over; I must have been too late. Nothing. No Artemis. And judging by the sudden lack of light outside, if Artemis disappeared, so did the brightness of the moon.


	2. Traffic Report

**The Dark Side of the Moon Series: Taken (Book 1)**

**Part 1: Lieutenant of the Shattered**

**Chapter 2: Jet-Star And The Kobra Kid/Traffic Report**

* * *

_The Underworld, Hades' Palace_

_October 7th, 8:01 p.m._

_Nico di Angelo, Son of Hades, Head Councilor of the Hades Cabin, the Ghost King_

* * *

Nico di Angelo here, thought I'd save you from having to deal with my self-centered cousin narrating the whole time (I'm talking about the self-centered one who was turned into a tree, not the self-centered one who cries when he passes a seafood resturant). I know, it must have been horrible, right? But you've got me now, so all is well. So first, here's some odd things you should know about me:

1) I was born during World War II, but I'm still fifteen.

2) My dad is Hades, and will incinerate you if you so much as breath the wrong way around him.

3) I am _not _emo; I refuse to be classified into _any _stereo-type at all.

Alright, I'm sure you don't want my autobiography, so I'll stop there. Now, let's just jump right into the story, shall we?

The Underworld is not pretty, if you're wondering. There's no sky, but a roof of the dirt and rock that's commonly found down here underground. Dad's undead ghoul guards are everywhere, giving this institutional feel to the whole place. The grass is yellowed and dead in most of the fields. Tartarus; enough said. Then there's the screams of anger, defiance, misery, and pain from the Fields of Punishment (but honestly, I'd rather go there when I die than Asphodel just for something to do with eternity). But then there's everyone's goal: Elysium. What a guy wouldn't do to get in there. Personally, I visit that place every few days or so, then again, that's probably just me. Yet even Elysium is depressing in it's own way. But I've gotten used to the Underworld, as it's basically my home and we'll all end up here sometime anyway.

The west wing of Hades' palace was where I stayed nightly here in hell. My room is pretty cool; I decorated and designed it, so it ought to be. I guess black walls are what you'd expect of the child of the Underworld, but I can't help that I like the color. Good for blending into the shadows as I tend to do, and it's not bright and cheerful and all that shit that just makes me sick. I have a lot of band posters hanging on those black walls, and some of my sketches too. My guitar is propped up on my desk (I taught myself when I was thirteen), which has my radio/ IPod dock and my notebooks sitting atop it. My bookcase is huge, filled to capacity with novels (even if they were torture on my dyslexic eyes, once I'd learned to decode the words, the stories were amazing) and CDs. I didn't want a bed because it would feel to permanent, so I opted for a leather sofa, which is surprisingly comfy when I want to fall asleep. But really, I could sleep anytime of the day or night instantaneously. Sleeping like the dead... another thing about kids of Hades, apparently.

I was lying across my sofa, mouthing along to a song by Three Days Grace absentmindedly, when the door flew open, almost falling off it's hinges. An angry Persephone stormed through the doorway, her eyes shooting sparks. I'd always wondered why dad had to pick the chick with anger issues... his _niece _with anger issues... doesn't that make Persephone my cousin...? Huh. Learn something new every day. So anyway, let me paint the picture a little better. She's beautiful (most goddesses are) but not when she's got her face screwed up like she's just smelled a dead skunk, which I've learned to mean she's pissed. Usually at me. Her eyebrows are creating wrinkle-like lines on her face, as well as her fiercely frowning lips. Her frame is shaking and her fists are clenched. There are horns coming out of her head, a forked tail from behind, and a pitch fork in her right hand (in my imagination anyway). Basically, just a great big ball of sunshine.

Now, my stepmother and I never had a good relationship. She was nice occasionally, but most of the time she just wrinkled her nose at me in distaste or sent daggers (glares not knives... mostly) my way when I did something wrong or annoying. She didn't fancy talking to me either, which I was completely fine with, overjoyed really. In fact, I think the only person she despises more than her mother and her damn cereal is me. What an honor. The only time Persephone and I can stand being in the same room as the other is when we feel the need to be screaming up in each other's faces or when my father makes us cooperate. So I figured from the smoke coming out of her ears and the fact that she was willingly standing within a twenty foot radius of me with no sign of Father meant that she was here to yell at me some more. Typical.

Let me just clarify that Persephone is the only divine immortal being that I talk back to, because I simply just cannot bite my tongue around her. I'm respectful to all the other gods and goddess (out loud), but there is just something about her that makes me want to either throw up or break the thing nearest to me, preferably her face. But I'm not allowed to punch my dad's wife, because apparently that's frowned upon in most cultures.

So there the bane of my existence stood, as irritating as the ghost of Hercules and as pissed as Annabeth when Rachel's coming onto Percy (not that that happens too often now).

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, not being able to put her frustration and hatred into words. She looked like a fish out of water. Eventually, she settled for stabbing her finger at me in an accusing gesture.

I looked around the room, pasting a look of bewilderment on my face. I mouthed, "Me?" and pointed to myself, giving the big innocent eyes.

She let out a shriek of annoyance, and I tried to control the fit of laughter which threatened to burst from my mouth. Oh, she's really miffed now. The queen of the Underworld clenched her teeth and swallowed, taking big, deep breaths. Her eyes squeezed shut in what I could assume was an attempt to forget I was present for a moment to give her the chance to calm down. But then again, just the mention of my name can set her off... When her eyes opened, and the flames were fading to embers, she addressed me, keeping a steely calm voice. "Nico," she sneered my name per usual, "would you kindly explain what _happened_ on the third floor?" Her pursed lips dared me to say no.

This time, I seriously didn't have any idea what... oh... that... I laughed easily. "Funny story that. You'd love it. Perfect for a person who can relate to being air-headed. You know, like when you ate that pomegranate and got stuck with my dad, who'd just cheat on you later, in this hot, creepy hell hole, completely ruining your entire life? Yeah, we all have moments like that I guess."

Another shriek, this one louder, filled with absolute loathing and even more frustration and annoyance than the last. "Look, di Angelo, I don't know what the hell you did, and I don't godsdamn care either. But _your_ little _explosion _is making _my_ _hallways_ _dirty_ and _stinky_, so clean it up. _Now_." And then Miss Pin-Stuck-Up-Her-Ass stormed out, slamming my door behind her, shaking the whole frame.

I rolled my eyes, grabbed the remote to my radio off the dark wooden floor, and turned the volume up. There, that's better.

Earlier that day, I'd been trying to create a really strong knock out gas with a recipe that the Stoll brothers had given me. Since they were the Stolls, I wasn't so sure that it'd actually work, so I went up to the third floor because that was where Persphone liked to stay so I knew nothing would be lost if I screwed up. And yeah, I did screw up. Actually, it exploded up in my face like a big mushroom cloud and I had to wash my hair four times in the shower afterwards in order to get the smell out. I'd left all my supplies and the failed result up there for a couple of hours before I realized they were gone. Good laugh I had about that.

Now, obviously, I wasn't actually going to clean it up, but I figured I could probably spare the time to send some skeletons to go do the job for me. So I more or less called room service and a few moments later two skeletal servants (one wearing the ensemble of a British redcoat, and the other wearing one of those maid dresses which looked extremely weird on a set of bones) appeared inside my room by the door, awaiting my command. So I told them what I wanted, and they left with a salute and a curtsy to go take care of it.

It was odd going from a little, annoying, foster kid with only his sister, to discovering I was the son of one of the most powerful Greek gods in existence with undead servants at my disposal and a whole camp of other demigods like me. Well, not like me exactly, as most of them didn't want to cry and/or die when they were asked to wear 'nice clothes' for Thanksgiving (Hi, Persephone). I'm sure some of them do, but you get it. Or do you? Even with a world of demigods and monsters and gods and Titans, it's hard to believe anyone has a story like yours, because really, even among Greeks who weren't supposed to exist, I was a freak.

I always had been though, so I was used to it. I guess children of Hades are accustomed to being loners. Then again, the only other child of Hades that I knew of was my dead sister who didn't like to be bothered by my annoying troubles often; she tells me I need to stop talking to dead people all the time and try to be nice to the living ones. It's not like I'm mean to people, I'm just indifferent mostly; I like to keep to myself and worry about my own business, though having information from others does come in handy, as I need to know about important things when they happen so I can show up outta nowhere, kick ass, and save the day.

I think a lot of people assume I run these secret errands and spy on everybody and know everything and take on jobs for other people and personal quests and stuff, and I do, but sometimes I just want to be a regular demigod. Make sense? No, not really, as the rest of the time I would hate being even remotely like anybody else, and normal is a fictional concept. I'm Nico di Angelo! Whatever, it's just when my sister tells me these things, well, I kind of take everything and anything she tells me to the heart. It's a little-brother-who-can-talk-to-his-dead-sister thing.

Bianca had died on a quest shortly after joining the Hunters of Artemis... what was it? Five, six years ago? Wow. I didn't even realize... I guess time goes by quickly when you spend most of your days in the Underworld, and have been pulled out of time before... The years crawl by faster; I know that probably doesn't make any sense to you, but it's one of those things you just have to experience. I've talked to Percy about his time in the Lotus Casino, and he understands what it feels like. Thalia is a little bit of a different story, as she was still kind of alive and growing (more slowly) in that pine tree. I've really only talked to Thalia a few times, but she's easy to have a conversation with... when she's not trying to rip your throat out; that's another thing that Percy understands well.

I feel like the three of us sort of have to band together. I don't mean that we're "besties" or whatever those Aphrodite chicks call it; we aren't close exactly, but, I mean, come on: We're the only children of the Big Three, together we're extremely lethal, but we're also huge, walking targets. We are loners, no matter how many friends Percy has, no matter how many dead guys I conjure up, and no matter the family Thalia has with the Hunt. No one really understands what it's like to be us. I'm aware others have it worse (I have to listen to ghosts complain all day), but we never know who to trust, and we never can fully relax. I honestly do consider Percy the older brother I never had. Thalia and I agree only on a few things... the rest of the time, she's either trying to kill me or trying to kill Percy or trying to kill us both at once. But I'd rely on either of them to cover me in battle or something. Because in war, you need allies, no matter how damn good you are with a sword or whatever. In life, you need someone to watch your back; Percy and Thalia are, whether I wanted it so or not, my strongest alliances.

But I guess that's just how it is, some people click, some you're wary of, and others you just naturally want to gut like a freaking _shish-kabob_. I'm not thinking of anyone in particular; it's nothing personal, just life. I do consider myself a realist, not a pessimist, because so what if I'm going to be the one to spit out the dark truths? I don't care; I'll be who I am, and no one can change that.

Suddenly, I was aware of three things happening in close succession.

The first thing I registered was an eerie feeling of power wash over me, something I usually only felt when shadow travelling; it was the increase of my abilities, usually because of a spontaneous abundance of darkness. Then, the resounding crash from somewhere downstairs, like someone had dropped something out of shock. But a minute or so after the first two, an I.M. appeared before me. I paused in the doorway and turned to face the image of Percy and Annabeth in a very dark field. There were people running all around behind them, screaming or fighting with one another. Annabeth appeared to be deep in thought. Percy looked worn out and distressed. They were at camp. But why was it so dark? Wait... dark...

I squinted through the hazy Iris Message at the sky on their end of the call; it was a cloudless night, but no stars. And the moon, well, I didn't even notice it at first, because it's light was so faint. It barely gave off any glow at all. The moon had dimmed, it's light gone out. Which meant it's power was drained... No, it couldn't be... I]d read about the theoretical possibility of it before but...

Percy's grim, hardened expression never flattered; he was getting better at keeping a cool head around people becoming a better leader, I supposed, by not letting how freaked out he was show on the surface. The only reason I could tell was because I wore the same face, on some occasions, when I had to. His voice crackled slightly from the bad connection. Wait, how were they making the call? I didn't see anyone or anything spraying water. Turns out, he answered that for me.

"Sorry for the bad connection, but it's hard to keep the water going; my powers just suddenly weakened. We got Butch behind the I.M. making a rainbow for us. Things are bad here, Nico. I don't like the way it feels. The ocean gets most of it's strength from the pull of the moon at night, that's why the tide is higher. But the moon's... and so the ocean's..." He scowled. "Do you know why this is happening?"

I studied him with careful eyes. It seemed as if Annabeth wanted to say something but couldn't form the words, so I waved my hand at her to spit it out. "Nico, did your powers increase?" Her piercing gray eyes darted everywhere, as if doing a huge, complicated math problem in her head.

My eyebrows furrowed. How'd she...? Oh. She suspected too, or at least, she was on the verge of her conclusion. I nodded. "Yeah, just now, right before you guys appeared on the I.M."

Annabeth tightened her grip on Percy's arm, her knuckles pure white in the darkness. "This is worse than I thought..." she muttered to herself. "The last time... this must be more powerful magic..." Her eyes suddenly snapped up the stare down Percy. I noticed he moved his face back slightly, and I had to swallow a chuckle; he was still afraid of his girlfriend. Then again, who wasn't? "Artemis has been taken. Not kidnapped this time, but _taken_. The only way the moon would react that way was if her power was drained. The only reason we're seeing the moon at all is because of the old moon goddess, Selene, at least that's what I'm assuming. Her powers should be what's keeping the light on." She started mumbling incoherently again. I caught a few words, but I couldn't make sense of most of it.

Percy glanced nervously at Annabeth for a moment, before turning back to face me. "When was the last time you heard from Thalia?"

I had to rack my brain to remember. "Around... I don't know. Maybe three, four months ago?"

He cursed under his breath. "I spoke to her a few weeks back, and she didn't give any hints about anything being unusual... I'll call her. Watch out, Nico. Something very bad is happening. Try to figure it out from a different angle, as there will probably be a quest sometime soon." And with those ominous words, he raised his hand towards the image, and it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

And so began the second apocalypse.


	3. Disenchanted

**The Dark Side of the Moon Series: Taken (Book 1)**

**Part 1: Lieutenant of the Shattered**

**Chapter 3: Disenchanted**

* * *

_Long Island, Camp Half-Blood_

_October 7th, 8:09 p.m._

_Annabeth Chase, Daughter of Athena, Head Councilor of the Athena Cabin, Architect of Olympus_

* * *

As the daughter of the goddess of wisdom, I pride myself on my ability to comprehend and learn quickly; I can guarantee that you'd spend a lifetime if you tried to search for one who didn't. I may be a little bit of a know-it-all, yes, but more often than not it _is_ wits that battle your way out of unpleasant situations. I guess I'm what you'd call the "go to girl" for problems. I love brain-teasers, but I did not like this in the least. Not even a little bit. Not at all.

Let's just say it's irritating when there's no light to see by in the blackness, and the screams won't fade from earshot; you may quote me, because that's just how it was: one second I was contently walking to the campfire sing-along with one arm around Percy's shoulders and the other over Grover's, and the next, it was like someone had flipped the light switch.

As expected, campers immediately started panicking, and I distantly saw Grover trot off into the woods, to check with Juniper, I'd suppose. Percy's hand slid into mine and we agreed that we needed as many points of view as possible to be able to figure out what was going on, so we grabbed Butch from Iris Cabin and I.M'd Nico di Angelo.

I'd already had a suspicion as to what was going on before speaking with the son of Hades, but his side of the story coupled with Percy's powers weakening lead me to my assessment. And really, it was fairly obvious this was something the Hunters would know of, so we fished out another drachma and called up Thalia.

The lieutenant of Artemis appeared to be frozen in shock, staring at something that was no longer there (or maybe never was?), when we had gotten a good enough connection to see her. Thalia's mouth hung open slightly, eyes bugged to rival the size of golf balls. She didn't seem to take any notice of the I.M.

Percy cupped his hands together around his mouth, to create the megaphone effect. "Yo, Pinecone Face!"

Suffice to say, I didn't think that was the best way to address Thalia. Her immediate reaction was to jump, and whirl in a quarter turn to face us. Now that I was looking straight at her face, I observed it held a strange, crazed demeanor to it, which wasn't exactly reassuring. Her electrically charged dangerous eyes narrowed infinitely, trained on us, while her head moved to the right slightly, chin up. "Don't _call_ me that." Her rebuttal was weak at best.

Freaked out. That's the only way I can describe her expression: freaked the Hades out. She must have seen it happen, and must not have known what it meant. "Thalia?" I asked tentatively, to no avail. "_Thalia_," I said after a pause, more forcefully. She gave me some recognition this time, raising one of her dark eyebrows. Her hands were shaking, and she was bouncing on the balls of her feet slightly. "Can you tell me what happened?"

She shook her head vigorously. "No. No, I..." She ran a hand through her spiky hair, exasperated. She looked distressed, so worn out that it was hard to believe she was immortal. "I was listening in on a conversation, an I.M. It was Lady Artemis and Apollo; they were arguing about some threat. Then a really bright light. I rushed inside, but no one was in the tent. And then the light outside went out, the moon. That was a little after 8:00 p.m, I guess. What am I supposed to tell the Hunt, huh?" She demanded, then turned her glare to the ceiling, hands gripping her hair as if she were about to pull it out. "_I _don't even know what's going on."

On a whim, I made a move towards her, then, suddenly realizing how foolish the action was while communicating by Iris Message, I mentally scolded myself. Me, Annabeth, forgetting something as simple as that for even one crucial moment. Ha! A moment. One moment can change everything, can make you realize or remind you of something. Moments pass by in a second, but moments like these are prolonged in your memory. For this was the moment that I realized that even I, in my far from normal nature, could move without the action being rehearsed. That is to say, that the daughter of Athena doesn't think before doing things sometimes; what can I say, but that I'm ADHD? I guess I tend to react without thought. I guess.

That's another no-no for my siblings and I: guessing. Children of Athena are supposed to have the answers, not be _guessing_ at them. I was known for knowing things! And now, why I am I getting so worked up over this? Pride, you could call it. Or maintenance of reputation, confidence, and guarantee rate. In simpler terms: esteem, or how you feel about yourself, others feel about you, and how you think they feel about you. I didn't want to have to guess.

This whole thing just annoyed me mercilessly. It plagued every aspect of my mind instead of only one, as usually I'd be thinking about several different things at once. Not now. Not since somebody flicked the switch and cloaked the Earth in darkness. I could only guess at half the story; I had no idea what Thalia was rambling about in her half-crazed state of shock and refusal to believe what had taken place right in front of her, whatever that had been; I had no idea what the threat was or why Artemis was fighting with Apollo (do they often need a reason to fight?) or how she was abducted or by whom or where she'd been taken or what type of magic this was; I had no one idea what _I _was going to do about anything now. The only certainty I had to work with was that the light of the moon had been dimmed dramatically one way or another.

I could spend the rest of this month thinking up solutions to this complicated equation that had my mind racing in overdrive. And maybe I would have, if Percy had not intervened with his oh-so-predictable stupidity just then.

"So... should we come back later?"

But I knew even that was a front (it was nice to know _something_). I knew he was just as bizarred out as Thalia, that the workings of his mind at this moment were just as incoherent as Thalia's ranting. Thalia's ranting, which was on the verge of sounding mad. And maybe she was. Maybe immortality was having it's way with her and the stress of being lieutenant, of watching all her friends pass her in years, and of always moving on had gotten to her through the disappearence of the goddess of the moon.

And maybe Percy was a little insane from the whole "leader, legend, and hero" thing, and this was the outlet the insanity toke.

And maybe I was a little off as well.

And quite obviously so was Nico.

And Grover.

And Juniper.

And probably Tyson.

And Rachel, understandably so.

And unquestionably the Stolls.

And Katie.

And my half-brother, Malcolm.

And certainly Clarisse.

And Will.

And Jake.

And Pullox.

And Butch.

And Lou Ellen.

And one of the newest campers and one of my best friends, Piper.

And the boy she was brought here with, Leo, had already been classified as such.

And all the other cabin leaders.

And all the other campers.

And Chiron most definately.

And without a doubt all the gods and goddesses on Olympus.

And... and... maybe the whole godsdamn world and Hades below it was mad and deranged in it's own unique way.

_in·san·i·ty _/inˈsanitē/

Noun:

1. The state of being seriously mentally ill; madness

2. Extreme foolishness or irrationality

Synonyms:

madness - lunacy - craziness - derangement - dementia

Example:

This whole screwed up world was tilting on it's side in deliria, driven to insanity.

Call _me _crazy for thinking all this up. But really, we're evading the truth by denying it. Why not say it? After all, wasn't the very idea that the moon's light could disappear preposterous? I mean, Artemis had been kidnapped before, but never had the moon actually dimmed, at least not to the noticeable degree of which it was now at. What force could have possibly accomplished a feat such as _that_? And now we've come full circle, back to the ever important question (the only question that mattered?) of _who _or_ what _happened?

I needed an Advil right about now. My brain hadn't worked this hard since playing lead strategist while defending Manhattan in Titan War II.

Thalia averted her eyes from the ceiling of the tent sharply to glare at Percy. I swear, if looks could kill, Thalia's death glare would be somewhere near the top on my looks-that-can-kill-that-I-need-to-avoid list, right up there next to Hades, Ares, Nico, and Juniper (don't mess with _that_ psychotic nymph, Grover will tell you). Her eyes seemed to scrutinize Percy very, very carefully, what she was looking for, I couldn't be entirely sure of. Thalia opened her mouth, ready to say _some_thing to him, but was abruptly cut off by the I.M, which asked us to put in another drachma for another five minutes.

Percy took that as his cue to nod and wave merrily at that frizzling daughter of the god of electricity (See what I did there?) as the Iris Message's connection broke. I shot him a look and he tilted his head, raising his eyebrows. I knew that he knew what the look was for, so I saw fit to jab him in the ribs and be off to locate my cabin in the faint light after bidding Butch a thank you and goodbye. I didn't have to turn to know Percy was on my heels. Really, to any thinking observer his next move was always so pitifully easy to predict, well, at least when he was like this.

It wasn't as hard as it should have been, finding cabin number six that is; I must have walked the route several thousand times in my life, so my feet sort of just knew where to go, I suppose. Well, there were also two lanterns hanging outside the door; that might have helped a bit. The door was already propped open, but only Cara, my nine year-old half-sister was inside. She looked up as we walked through the entryway; mom's signature stormy gray eyes fit her so well as she fixed them on us. Her voice was high, and critical when she spoke. "Is it honestly so difficult for them to resist the urge to scream when the slightest mishap occurs?" I'm fairly certain she liked to sound more sophisticated through the way she spoke. But the effect was just her sounding completely ridiculous, and I could never take her seriously.

Percy looked startled upon hearing her voice, as if completely baffled by how calm she was taking the whole situation at hand. In fact, she was taking this so unemotionally, with such a blank expression, that I simply _had _to entertain the idea of her father being a robot for a few short seconds. "Uh, what're you doing in here?" he questioned unintelligibly.

Cara's eyes narrowed very slightly. "If you and my sister were searching for a room to yourselves, I happen to be occupying this cabin, as it is my mother's, so I'd advise you to kindly select a different location."

Whether Percy's cheeks were red out of embarrassment at the foolishness of his question, anger at Cara, or from the implications of what she'd just uttered, I doubted I'd ever know. Perhaps it was a combination of the three? I shrugged to myself. But externally, I coldly stared down my oh-so-irritating younger sister. Surprisingly, she didn't look away or flinch as most people tended to do. Instead, she looked on at me levelly, returning the stare. "Cara, can you please stop trying to sabotage ever day of my life and for once just be cooperative?"

She didn't waver for so much as a split-second. "But of course. So then, what would it be that you require?"

"'What would it be that you require?'" Percy muttered in a mocking tone under his breath that I barely caught. But nonetheless, I jabbed him in the ribs for the seventh time that day, although I could admit to myself that it was a pretty funny imitation.

Cara either didn't or pretended she didn't notice our exchange. "Well?" she pestered.

The conch horn echoed over all of Camp Half-Blood at that precise second. That's irony for you: being saved by the timing of that sound, when all we've ever done is fight against time. But really, whatever happens is meant to happen, or else it wouldn't happen; that's the nature of time. Time, the enemy. Being saved by the enemy. I could have laughed. But of course, I was thought strange enough as it was, so I held it in. Percy didn't attempt to hide his reaction, however: obviously overwhelmed with relief. So with a fleetingly look at Cara, Percy and I stepped into the night and trudged across the fields to where the conch horn was being blown from: the Big House.

It was Chiron. He was in centaur form on the wrap-around porch (several lanterns decorating it), Rachel standing directly next to him and Malcolm standing two steps lower leaning against the railing, campers trickling into the mass surrounding him in twos or threes, almost all of them wearing the same expression on his or her face. Chiron stood tall, looking out over the crowd with an uneasy face and tired eyes that had seen the whole world wide and everything in it and of it.

"Everyone, your attention please!" rang his strong voice over the chattering of the crowd, which quickly died as their eagerness to hear what he had to say increased. When he was sure he held every single demigod, satyr, and nymph's attention, he continued with the frightening truth we already knew. "As you have seen for yourselves, the light of the moon seems to have dimmed quite noticeably." You could have heard a pin drop. "Unfortunately, at the present time we have no information as to why."

It was then that the crowd chose to break in, protesting loudly, muttering to themselves and each other, panicking, et cetera.

Chiron stamped his hoof on the wooden porch, yelling over everyone to be heard, "Silence!" When all had calmed considerably enough, he sighed. "Please hold all reactions and conversations until the end, thank you. Now, I'm sure you're all wondering where Mr. D is, as well. He has been summoned to Olympus, with the parting words of 'good luck.'" He surveyed the faces, the nervous faces. "Until further notice, a strict curfew is being imposed on all campers: you are to be inside of your cabin before sunset. It's dangerous, and you may not even realize how dangerous, to wander around in the dead of the darkest night any one person has ever seen. I pray the Mist will keep the mortals from noticing a great change, though that is an extreme amount of magic we cannot rely on. Rachel?"

The red-headed Oracle of Delphi was gazing at her shoes thoughtfully, distance in her eyes. "Hmm? Oh, were you expecting a prophecy? Sorry, fresh out of divine influence at the moment... No, wait. There was something, just this feeling I've had for a little while, but it's pretty definite now." I could feel the tension in the air. Rachel tended to be a reliable source of information, and people tended to listen to what she had to say; now was no exception. She looked up quite suddenly, so quick, it startled most people "The Hunt is coming," she declared in an ominous voice that was not entirely her own, and nor was it entirely sane.

I exchanged a look with Percy; Thalia hadn't said anything about a visit... There were a lot of groans, a lot of confused glances, and a _lot _of people trying to make the connection. And I saw a few reach their conclusions. I saw Malcolm nod to himself absently; he already knew. A lot of my siblings had horrified looks upon their faces, a few of them nearly jumped into the air from shock; they knew. Rachel, obviously, knew. And I knew Chiron did too; I guess he didn't want to frighten those who didn't. His next words proved me right.

"Anyone who has any assumptions, I'd prefer you keep them to yourselves; I don't need false information flying across camp, no matter how sure you are that you're right, please. Everyone return to their cabins _immediately_."

And so, in the small parties they came in, shoulders hunched, the crowd dispersed. All but a few: Rachel, Malcolm, Grover (who had made his way back), and us. Malcolm was currently talking with Chiron, Grover nervously shuffling his hooves, and Rachel staring absently off into the unknown world to which only she possessed the curse and gift of seeing. Percy gripped my hand tighter and tugged me over to the group.

"Chiron," Percy cut into whatever my brother was saying. "You know," he accused. "So why didn't you say anything? To prevent more fear? They're already scared. We know too; we talked to Thalia and Nico."

"At once?" Grover asked, startled.

"No, no," Rachel dismissed, and waved a hand at Percy to continue; I didn't bother asking how she knew that, as it was Rachel, and I'd learned a while back not to question her.

"And that with my powers weakening. The tide grows stronger with the pull of the moon, and that would only be gone if the goddess of the moon's power drained."

"What do you mean? Artemis? What happened?" Grover's voice cracked over the first 'e' in 'happened.' Grover, and all the other satyrs, idolized Artemis.

"She wasn't kidnapped, so much as captured," I explained. "Her lifeforce must be fading for her power to drain. Whatever can do that is some intense magic."

Malcolm snorted.

"Yes," Chiron agreed, shooting a glance at my brother.

"So why wouldn't you tell them? Isn't it better to have all the facts?" reasoned Percy.

Malcolm pursed his lips and shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Not necessarily."

"How so, then?"

"Well..."

"Percy," Chiron commanded. "I've spent over two thousand years dealing with heroes, please don't question my methods. You are a good leader, but the best leaders don't question the authority over them, hmm?" He heaved a great sigh. "There will be a cabin leader's meeting tomorrow around noon. But all of you, go get some sleep, and do not mention a word of this to anyone."

"But..."

"Do not question, Percy." Chiron looked towards the forest uneasily. "Do not question..." he muttered again, to himself almost. Then he looked straight at Malcolm. "He knows why." But before Percy could reply, Chiron waved his hand towards the direction of the cabins, a clear signal to be on our way. He then turned and ducked through the doors of the Big House, Rachel, and then Grover, mutely following. Malcolm scowled and moped off through the fields.

I watched his retreating figure for a few moments, then started after his almost nonexistent shadow. But Percy grabbed my arm, and looked at me strangely, so I looked back at him strangely. His eyebrows furrowed. "He knows why...? Knows why what? Why you don't question? Why it's better not to know everything? What? Do you know what that was all about?"

I stared my adorable, idiotic, brave, sarcastic, ADHD Seaweed Brain in the eyes. I was just simply staring at him, and he was just simply staring back, yet it was so immensely more complex than that. "Malcolm has had a shitty life," I told him. He nodded, leaving it at that, and slid his hand into mine as we followed my brother into the darkness.

But that wasn't even the beginning of describing what Malcolm went through.

I didn't like lying to Percy, even if it just wasn't the full truth. But some stories weren't your's to tell, and some secrets were best left unearthed.


	4. Thank You For The Venom

**The Dark Side of the Moon Series: Taken (Book 1)**

**Part 1: Lieutenant of the Shattered**

**Chapter 4: Thank You For The Venom**

* * *

_Somewhere in the forests of Pennsylvania, Hunters of Artemis campsite_

_October 7th, 8:23 p.m._

_Thalia Grace, Daughter of Zeus, Lieutenant of Artemis_

* * *

My new mission was not to figure out what had happened, but rather to wring Percy's neck the next time I saw him. Couldn't he be a little bit more understanding? And yes, I'm being legitimate. Who even started that whole "legit" thing anyway? I'll wring their neck too, because that's just plain annoying. Frankly, anyone or anything that pissed me off right now was pissing me off at the wrong time, because I was feeling downright _murderous_.

Let's review.

Justina and Maggie.

Damn creepy Hestia.

Artemis and Apollo.

No Artemis.

No godsdamn light.

Percy and Annabeth.

Stupid Percy.

No Percy and Annabeth.

No freaking idea what the Hades was going on.

Yeah, I think that sums up my night. Cheery, no? Yes, yes, I'm aware that I am the _queen_ of sarcasm. But sarcasm is a very useful demigod tool. It can be used as a defense, a put-down, a "I don't give a shit," et cetera. I love sarcasm. This one kid from Athena Cabin once told me that sarcasm was the defense mechanism of the weak, so I punched him to demonstrate just how strong I was.

Anyway, my thoughts were kind of scattered right now.

I'm not sure how long it was, me standing there, fuming, shocked, and a mixture of other things, but it was long enough for Riley to stroll in, calm as nothing you've ever seen before. However, she threw the tent flap aside as quick as an Aphrodite girl would a toss an old, dirty sock. But from the way she did it, I'd guess it was as if she were trying to startle who or what was on the other side.

Riley was one of my better friends in the Hunt. She was blonde, tall, and athletic with unnerving and intelligent gray eyes: the markers for a child of Athena. But she wasn't. With her upturned eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, and sly smile, she was a daughter of Hermes. This was one of the reasons I liked her: she was my ally during the prank wars that tended to occur within the Hunt. Phoebe was another ally of mine, and Justina when she wasn't drinking (smuggled in courtesy of Riley) or running from a pissed off Maggie. Riley was also witty, cunning, and had uncanny accuracy when predicting something.

So, anyway, a bow had already appeared in her hand, an arrow notched in place, before her eyes locked onto mine, and she lowered it slowly, realizing it was only me here. However, I noticed that she didn't put it away. Her chin came up slightly. "What happened?"

I was done with that question. What happened? Why'd you let it happen? How are you going to prevent that from happening again? How do you feel about what happened? What do you think about what happened? Blah, blah, blah. Why did everyone expect me to know, huh? Why's it always my fault, my problem, my responsibility?

I swear I must have had steam coming out of my ears. "_I don't know_."

She raised an eyebrow and gave me a once-over. "Gods, who pissed in your water bottle?"

That did it. I launched myself across the narrow gap between us and brought her to the ground with the sheer force of my anger, a knee on her chest, a hand pulling her hair, and a dagger held by my other hand under her throat.

She merely rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay, wrong thing to say. Just get the hell off me." But instead of waiting for me to get up, she pushed me hard so I fell backwards onto the dirt of the ground, and hulled herself up to attention, looking down at me for a second before offering me a hand up. I ignored it and stood on my own.

Luckily for her, I didn't feel like attacking again. Or else she'd already have at least a minor injury. I sheathed my knife, placed my hands on my hips, and glared at her. "What do you want?"

She snorted. "I'd have thought you'd use your brain every once in a while. I came looking for Artemis, naturally, after the lights went out. But I see that she's gone and so is the moon, well, at least, I mean, well, the majority of the light is out, I'm sure you've noticed. Or have you? The gods know you don't think, just react. Most of the Hunt is asleep, or otherwise trying to fall asleep and so have their eyes closed, and do not yet know of what's happened. I think I heard Skylar talking to herself in the tent next to mine, so she might know. Whatever there is to know that is, as you seem unable to tell me. Have you thought of a plan yet? Ha! That's a good one. No, no, I'll think of something, sure, I'll come up with _something_. Of course. I'm sure you know that's annoying. You'd swear I was a daughter of Athena, the way everyone here always expects _me _to be the problem solver. I'm sure you know that, what I mean, because I'm sure being lieutenant and all, you'd know all about people expecting so much from you."

I could barely make sense of what she was saying. Riley tended to rant and/or speed-talk when she was trying to hide how nervous she was. Me? I was the opposite. And she had only paused now to take a breath.

"And really, I've been with the Hunt not much shorter than you. You remember when you guys found me, don't you? Pathetic thing I must have been." For a moment, something flashed in her eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly. She continued, "Fucking foster parents; they really screwed me up, didn't they? Yeah, I'm sure that's what you all thought at some point in knowing me. Or rather, not knowing me. But anyway, we were talking about the problem at hand, not my problem. So...? What's about it, hmm? Seriously, I can't help you figure this out if you don't tell me what's up."

I stared at her for a little bit longer than necessary, still caught up on her slip about her old life (Riley never told anyone what happened before we found her), trying to decipher who this girl really was. I think she's a lot like me, in the way that we both have an exterior that we show the world, and then there's the person we actually are behind and beneath all that. She was no better than I, or anyone else who joined the Hunt. Because as much as we all liked to think otherwise, we joined the Hunt because we were running from something. And in that instance we are all the same. Everything in the Hunt had always seemed to be the same, but this, what had happened? This was new. New and unexplained things tended to frighten people or make them react violently. So that left me one course of action.

"We can't let the rest of the Hunt know the full truth. Phoebe, maybe. Not Justina, she's never sober enough to fully understand things or remember what she's supposed to be keeping to herself. I know I can tell you though. Should we tell Skylar? I don't want to but..." Skylar was a daughter of Nyx, the goddess of darkness. There were a lot of conflicting stories about Nyx, some saying that she was actually a Titan, others that she was the goddess of night not darkness. But one thing was certain: if anyone would know anything about a blackout worldwide, it'd be Skylar... wait a minute... what about Nico? I'd contact him later; I haven't talked to that kid in months anyway.

Riley tilted her head from side to side, the way she does when she's debating something. "Yes and no. Possibly? Why don't you tell me first and then we decide? Because seriously -"

I raised my hand to indicate she should shut up now before she got carried away and she did, surprisingly. I picked up on how she said "we decide" instead of "I'll decide," as she usually would have done. But she'd accomplished her mission: to get me to spill. That's really the only reason she tries to downgrade my intelligence: to force me to think. It helps, it's a good offense, I don't like it, and I always fall for it, so I have mixed emotions about that technique.

I told her everything that had happened earlier tonight, excluding certain parts of my conversation with Hestia, because I somehow felt that that really wasn't anyone else's business but mine. She didn't interrupt me once; she never was one to interrupt a story. Instead, what she did was count off on her fingers at some points during my talking, the points she wanted to discuss or had a thought about that she simply had to say. As soon as it was clear I was finished, she started.

"Of _course_ Justina and Maggie would be at it again. When are they _not _bickering? But come on, what's that have to do with anything? And, hold up, how did Hestia even know about this if the rest of the gods didn't? And that's really all you picked up from Apollo and Artemis? I mean, that's certainly enough to work with, but what could drain Artemis's power so much as to actually be able to dim the moon? I didn't even know that was _possible_. Maybe we _should _tell Skylar; she might know more than anyone on something like this. _Might._ But that's a risk we can't afford not to take, even if she is a bitch. And we should probably get that di Angelo kid on an I.M. Maybe we could get it firsthand from the son of Hades, who might know something about this stuff too, you know?" Riley wasn't prejudiced against boys like most of the others. "Wait, did you say that Artemis said something about telling the council? That she and Apollo waited too long?"

I nodded, wondering what she was getting at.

Riley licked her lips. She looked jittery, as if she were on the verge of a breakthrough. Her voice held barely contained excitement when she continued on. "Well, how did _they_ know? They found out beforehand somehow, right? They must have been making observations that could potentially provide us with an explanation of some sort. So. So what if Artemis had written it all down?"

My eyes widened. "Her notes! My gods, you're a genius!" I snapped my fingers in the "that's it" sort of way before I darted around towards Artemis' desk, Riley in pursuit. There were several papers on top, so I grabbed a handful, my eyes raking up and down the pages again and again. Riley was opening the desk to pull out a few notebooks, which she was flipping through, looking over the headlines for an entry that might have helped. When I was frustrated with the papers on top of the surface, I snatched the remaining papers from inside of the desk. Riley eventually gave up on the notebooks and headed over to the bookcase, running her fingers over the spines for any book that might have explained any portion of this.

"Aha!" She shouted in victory, which caused me to rush to her side. She was holding an old, thickly bound, skinny book. It was titled _The_ _History of the Moon_.

I sighed. "How is this supposed to help? We're looking for something that Artemis wrote not... not..." I squinted. "Who's signature is that?"

Riley squinted too. Suddenly, she gasped and dropped the book in alarm, as if it were cursed. I looked at her strangely while she stared at it cautiously, before slowly bending over to pick the book up gently off the floor, brushing off the dust.

"Well?" I prodded. "Who is it by?" The anticipation was all but ripping me apart.

Her hard gray eyes met mine. "Zoe Nightshade."

I froze. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't think. Was I having a stroke or something? Going into a shock-induced coma, maybe? I couldn't take so many scares in one night. This was too intense. I felt like I was in some mystery novel. Another twist and turn every five seconds. This was _insane_. _I was going insane._

I gently pried the book from her fingers and examined the cover. Old, worn. It looked like it might fall apart. I gingerly handed it back. "Don't open it."

Her eyes narrowed instead of bugged like I would have expected anyone else's to do. "And why's that?"

I ran a hand through my hair and gestured wildly at the book as if that was enough of an answer. "Because... Because, well... Because it was written by Zoe! That's why! I know what she was like, and she could have hexed it or something so no one could read it and... and it looks like it's about to fall apart anyway! We could damage it! And what if it's not even _by _Zoe? What if someone just slapped her name on it or forced her to sign her name on the cover, huh?"

Riley sighed. "No, no. We both know you don't honestly..." She rolled her eyes, but stopped halfway, her gaze caught by something over near or on the desk behind me, her words fading into silence.

I turned around to look too. "What?"

But she had better eye sight then I could ever hope to have, better than 20/20 vision. She crept over to the desk and narrowed her eyes at the bottom inside corner closest to her. "What is..." She ran her fingers over a tiny set of reels with numbers on them that I could just barely make out. She jerked up abruptly, but just as sudden, lowered herself back down and crawled under the desk looking up at the bottom of it. She ran her palm over the surface, and knocked on it once. She brought one of her hands out from under the desk and felt around the inside of the bottom blindly, knocking, until her hands rested on top of each other if not for the wood keeping them apart. "Here." Riley crawled back out from underneath and straightened up, keeping her one palm over the inside of the bottom of the desk. "Did I ever tell you about my old best friend?" she questioned distractedly. "He was a son of Hephaestus?"

That startled me, but I still crossed my arms over my chest, waiting, inwardly surprised that she'd volunteer personal information like that, and suspicious as to why. I picked up _The History of the Moon_, which she had set on the ground, and tucked it inside my jacket for safe keeping. "No. Why?"

"Well," she said sarcastically, but the rest of it was extremely serious. "I assume you know Hephaestus is a craftsman god?"

I nodded at her to proceed.

"Well, we meet on the run back then, both leaving our latest foster parents; I knew about the Greek world being real, but he didn't, and I never told him. He knew about monsters though. We were looking for this secret passage in this old house full of monsters we were trying to escape from, and he taught me a neat little trick. Do you know what it was?"

"Uh, no," I said, mentally storing the information she was willingly giving in the files of my head.

"If you knock on wood, and a specific place makes a hollower sound than the rest of it, there's more than likely an empty space behind it. And if enough pressure is applied..." She pushed hard down on the inside of the desk's bottom. The wood snapped under her hand. "... it'll break." She smiled to herself.

When the dust cleared, there was a hole in the desk, but it had only broken through one layer of wood, so that you couldn't see through to the floor. Sitting in the hole on the next layer, the next level, a hidden level, were a few papers strung together with some kind of thin ribbon. The pages weren't yellowed, torn, or frayed like most of the others, but rather they were still in perfect condition. I could smell fresh ink.

We looked at each other, her grinning, me glaring, and she was about to reach over to pick up the stack of papers when I slapped her hand away quickly.

"_What_?" she asked, irratated.

"Damn. You had to break it? She's gonna kill you when this is over, you know."

"No, she won't," Riley scoffed. "I doubt she'll care. I mean, really, this information could help save her, so why does it matter the consequences?" She reached over for the papers again; I let her this time.

"You couldn't have used the combination?" I weakly protested, motioning towards to reels.

I was looking at the newly found stack of papers, but I could tell she was rolling her eyes at me. "Yeah, because there are only a million different things it could possibly be, and that wouldn't take forever."

"Right," I muttered, peering over her shoulder at the pages. "Those are recent. Three months ago up to... yesterday, it seems." Those papers... evil papers having the nerve to make me feel this anxious, nervous whatever. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what was written on them.

She nodded her agreement, silently mulling over the information, pausing every so often to squint at a word. She handed me the last few papers of the stack. "These are the latest. Read the most recent, that'll probably be quickest."

I swallowed down the thickness in my throat and began to read from Artemis' personal notes:

"_October 6th,_

_This night is my last before they come, I'm sure of it. However, I'm not sure if resistance will even be possible in this case. I could take them each down individually without a problem, but my success would be unlikely with all of them together. She is the only one suited to or powerful enough to take over the responsibility of the moon, but since she's allied herself with them, I can guess they have a replacement for my brother as well._

_Two days ago, one of my Hunt developed a suspicion, and I now have no doubt that she knows of what is to come. I've spoken with her about it, and we've agreed that when tomorrow comes, she will tell my lieutenant, and her alone. I don't need everyone in _more_ of a panic._

_I worry for the fate of the gods, because who is to say that this so called "Order" will stop at the moon and sun?_"

Riley bobbed her head silently. "So, who's this "Order" anyway? I mean, obviously they're the ones that took Artemis, but who exactly _are _they? And one other person in the Hunt besides us knows... Is that good or bad?" She looked over to me.

Pursing my lips, I glanced up at her. "I don't know." My eyes slid back down to the paper. I made a snap decision and took the rest of the pages out of her hands, stuffing them into my coat, exchanging them for Zoe's book, which I handed to her in return. "Take that to Alexia or Nyla, daughters of Hecate; I'd suggest Alexia. Don't tell her what it is, just ask her if it's safe to read, to make sure there's no curses on it or whatever. Then I want you to read as much of it as you can, see if you can figure out why Zoe wrote it too... and try not to break the thing; it really does look like it's about to fall apart. I'll read the notes."

"We can't keep this a secret forever." It sounded as if she were going to stop there, but upon stealing a look at my face, she hastily added, "I'm not saying we should tell the Hunt, I'm just wondering how you think we're going to be able to keep this quiet; they're bound to notice the moon has dimmed, even if we tell them that Artemis went to Olympus on urgent business or something like that."

I took a deep breath and nodded gravely. "No, we can't. But we can try."


	5. Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough

**The Dark Side of the Moon Series: Taken (Book 1)**

**Part 1: Lieutenant of the Shattered**

**Chapter 5: Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough For The Two Of Us  
**

* * *

_Somewhere in the forests of Pennsylvania, Hunters of Artemis campsite_

_October 8th, 8:21 a.m._

_Thalia Grace, Daughter of Zeus, Lieutenant of Artemis_

* * *

The light shining through my tent and beating on my closed eyelids warned me of the next day. I'd gotten a horrible sleep last night, and even then I was barely out for a few hours. Care to take three guesses why? Yeah. I wasn't particularly psyched for the task of getting up and trying to partially explain to the Hunt why the hell Artemis wasn't here, but I stretched my legs and swung my arms back and forth to try to wake up my body anyway, so I could go ruin a perfectly good sunny day. No, the irony was not lost on me.

I didn't wince at the cracks I heard as I rolled my head around; my neck was always so stiff when I woke up. I jammed my feet into my boots and hopped up off of the mattress pitching forward slightly harder then needed, so that my feet made an audible sound when they hit the dirt. I swiped my bracelet off my desk and pushed passed the tent flap, my hands deep in my pockets.

My boots shuffled forward of their own will, and ended up taking me to Artemis's tent, of all places. I'd rather my feet had walked me to the edge of Tartarus right about now. Seriously. But nonetheless, I drifted inside. I didn't look around much, just the same as how I didn't examine the campsite like I usually do when I first step out of my tent. I slid into the chair at her desk, and took out the notes to study them some more. There weren't many helpful entries. The only thing I found on this shady "Order" was that last entry, and the one before it, which read:

_It's recently become known that yet another has disappeared. But maybe "disappeared" is the wrong word; maybe the word is "left." This "Order" is stronger than I thought, and more influential then I could have guessed. It seems not many can put up much of fight against the empty promises and sworn justice the Order is no doubt offering them. I should have known this wouldn't be so easy._

It was so impossibly incomplete; I just didn't know enough. So far, I got that there was some organization powerful people or creatures that was trying to recruit some more to their forces and basically just become a general nuisance for me. But one of _what_ exactly? And _what_ wouldn't be so easy? And what's with the whole debate about "disappeared" and "left?" Does it matter? I mean, whoever "another" is has gone away in either instance, so does it matter whether they left or disappeared or were kidnapped?

Wait a minute. Kidnapped. Like Artemis? Were there more cases like hers? Was she not the first? And who would the Order target anyway? Are they planning an attack on the moon and sun, and therefore the sky? Or just Artemis and Apollo? The Hunters of Artemis? Or is it some type of personal revenge deal? Or... or even worse, an attempt to overthrow the gods? Just the Olympians?

So I think. And I wonder. And I guess. And I basically waste fifteen minutes sitting there, accomplishing just about nothing, because there is no way to really know if any of my speculations are correct.

Artemis's handwriting was this really fancy type of cursive with a lot of loops that is almost illegible. And it was even more frustrating for me since I'm not too good at writing or reading cursive, which, when you think about it, isn't all too surprising. Dyslexic, hello. Her entries were short, and often left much information out, but again, it made sense since these notes were meant to be just that: reminders for her eyes alone. And here I was snooping through her stuff. Not that I had a problem with being all up in everyone else's business, but it _was_ her stuff. No, it was essential for me to see this if I'm going to take some huntresses on some type of wild chase to find Artemis.

Wild chase? What was I thinking? I had no idea what I was up against, if I stood any chance at all, or even if this was my fight. I wouldn't know where to start anyway. Who was I supposed to be fooling? Because I couldn't even convince myself. And if you can't convince yourself, how can you convince everyone or anyone else? The Hunt would want to fight, they'd want to do something. But could we? Could we really have any chance against whatever is strong enough to just show up, take Artemis, and flash out like it wasn't even a struggle? But then I remembered something Artemis had told Apollo. Alert the Council, the Olympians. And enlighten the Oracle. Apollo must have asked Rachel about all the shit that had happened last night and what she had seen for the future. He must have told the gods, too... That, at least, gave me a little bit of hope. Eleven Olympians and an army of minor gods and maybe even demigods? Please, no one could hold up against that... could they?

I shook my head as if to clear it; I was worrying too much, slightly panicking. Panic was not a good thing for a leader to do. A leader. Was that really what I was? Sometimes it feels like I have to take charge of everything and fix every little problem like it was all my own business. And then again, sometimes it felt like I was just me. Just Thalia. For once. I never got to just be me lately. Or ever even. I like being in charge, hell yeah, but I'm not a real big fan of responsibility. I wondered how dad did it. I wondered how Artemis had. How had Percy handled it all during the battle for Manhattan? Oh, just forget it. I don't care what Kelp Head does anymore; I have my own difficulties now. I guess I finally realized the degree of stress he had to deal with. I still don't like the idea of him being the star of the show all the time though. I mean, seriously, doesn't everyone deserve their own story? And the story of a demigod, well, that was certainly interesting. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was my chance to really do something great.

I started to wonder how the rest of camp had dealt with all this. What had Chiron said? Did Rachel say anything? Did Percy or Annabeth or someone make some kind of big, long, boring speech? Was it totally out-of-control chaos? Or halfway-controlled chaos? Did Mr. D know something? It would make sense... And then suddenly I felt like there should be a light bulb over my head; I had a completely brilliant idea. It just hit me all of a sudden. Just like that.

The desk's chair skidded against the dirt of the ground when I dragged it back to swiftly stand and jog out of the largest tent in the crescent moon shape of our quarters', passed my own tent, down to Riley's and Alexia's. It was stuffy in here, more so than mine, but I guess that's just because it was smaller. Theirs was a bunk bed, Riley on the top, rolled on her side so that I could see her face scrunched up in distress even in unconsciousness. She was having problems falling asleep too, or nightmares, maybe. Her blonde hair created a halo fanned out on her pillow around her head. I almost laughed; Riley was _not_ an angel, by any means. And at any rate, now was absolutely no time to be laughing about anything at all.

I glanced down at Alexia, who slept peacefully, unaware. Things had just swung totally out of balance, and there she slept on through it all. But that was good; she wouldn't hear anything of the conversation that was about to take place. I moved to wake Riley, but she suddenly jerked upright before I could do anything, and shrieked. The storm clouds in her wide eyes portraying absolute terror.

I immediately clamped my hand down over her mouth and pulled her onto the floor, grabbing her chin with my other hand so she'd be forced to look at me. She started struggling, her arms lashing out wildly and her legs kicking in every direction, but then she saw me, and instantly froze. Her eyes were still wide, but with shock and horror; she realized that she could have just woken somebody up. At the same time, we both shot a look to Alexia, who still slept on. Most Hunters were light sleepers; thank the gods that didn't include her. Riley pulled my hands away and rose to her feet, dusting off the old, gray sweatpants she wore and brushing her hair back behind her ears.

I breathed out a tight huff of air. "Don't. Do. That. Do you know what you just jeopardized? What if you had woken someone? Then we'd have to explain something we know next to nothing about or make up some crack story on the spot. And how do you propose we would go about that? Huh?"

She gave me an irritated glare. "Just shut up, Thalia. You know it wasn't on purpose."

My eye twitched. Once. Twice. Take a deep breath, Thalia. No. No, calm down. Don't kill Riley. Do. Not. Kill. Riley. Just breathe. Just breathe... Oh, who the fuck was I kidding? Nobody tells _me_ to shut up! "_Me_ shut up? _You _shut up! You know what, Riley? I'm pissed. Pissed at this whole godsdamn world because the Fates just decided to hate me for some reason. I am tired. I am annoyed. I am angry. I am hungry. I am depressed. I am panicking. I am stressed. And you know what? With all the shit that's going down, I just can't take you almost giving me a heart attack. So you know what? _You_ shut up! I just had a great idea and I came over here to share it with you, but now, I don't think I'm going to! How don't you understand how much this is eating at me!" All this in a harsh whisper so that Alexia didn't stir, unlikely though it was.

Riley chose her battles carefully, she always had. But she did not restrain herself from "whisper yelling" and ranting right back at me. "You think it's not eating at me too?! How can you even accuse me of that?! And do _you _know what? I did ask Alexia if the book was cursed or whatever. And she told me it wasn't. So, there. And do you want to know what else? Do you want to know what I was dreaming about, Thalia? I dreamed that _you _were next! I dreamed they came for _you_ next! You're my fucking best friend! And I was so stressed and scared and worried panicked and I didn't know how to explain to everyone else and I couldn't help but wonder who it was going to be next. Who was going to disappear in a flash of gold after you? Me?!" There were no tears in her eyes, but her voice was broken as if there were.

I breathed in deep and looked her levelly in the eyes. "Just don't scream like that."

She nodded dully, and half moaned, half groaned, "What the hell?"

I didn't know what she was talking about or meant specifically, but I guess it really didn't matter all too much, as it seemed like it was a general thing to say at this point. What. The. Hell. What the hell, indeed... It was definitely a rhetorical question, but I answered anyway with a quiet, "I don't know."

Riley blew out a puff of air, making her bangs fly away from her face, but they quickly settled down over her forehead and cheeks again, at which, she pushed them back behind her ears. She bobbed her head slightly, and swung her arms back and forth at her sides, trying to get back into the swing of being herself. She puffed out her cheeks, looking a bit like a chipmunk when she did so, and blew out another puff. "So...?" She looked up at me expectantly. "What's the plan, boss?"

I studied her for a moment, before glancing a bit nervously behind my back at nothing in particular, just checking to make sure there wasn't, say, some tall, dark figure in a black robe standing over me, ready to take me and vanish in a flash light. There wasn't, so I quickly spun my head back to see Riley still waiting expectantly, my short, spiky hair whipping my face on the turn. I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "Oh, I don't know. Call everyone together, and tell them Olympus has closed, Artemis safely inside the gates? Maybe. Just thinking up excuses, I suppose."

She raised one of her eyebrows, but didn't say anything, just waved her hand at me in an obvious "continue" gesture.

"Well," I theorized, liking the idea more and more as I thought about it. "It would make sense, wouldn't it? I mean, the goddess of the moon goes missing, taking the light of the moon with her, that's some serious shit, right? So, wouldn't it make sense for an Olympian Council Meeting to be held? Wring what happened out of Apollo, you know? I thought of this when I was thinking of camp, because, yes, of course Mr. D would know something, but he'd be summoned to the throne room anyway. And they wouldn't want word leaking out about what's really going down. So, they close Olympus. Shut it down. Nobody can get in, and nobody can get out. But we can say that we don't know why, just that Artemis got up and left to go to Olympus, even though we know that if there _i__s _a meeting, it would be about her disappearance. Foolproof, no?" I finished, smirking.

She opened her mouth, but closed it hesitantly. She made that face that she makes right before she's about to prove somebody wrong, but doesn't want to be offensive or burst their bubble. "Except for one thing."

"Which is?"

Both her eyebrows went up this time. "Iris, of course. Iris Messaging still works, and if Olympus was really closed, it would be completely cut off and Iris's magic wouldn't be able to escape farther than the bridge to the elevator. Communications would be totally down. Even Iris Messaging."

Damn. There goes another great idea. Hmm... Wait, I got it. "What if Iris wasn't inside Olympus though? Then her message system would work, right?" After all Riley was the daughter of the god of messages, so she should know.

She looked at me dubiously. "Yeah. But why _wouldn't_ she be on Olympus? Where else would she be?"

I shrugged. "Gods and goddesses get restless. I'm sure most of them don't spend all their time on Olympus, right? Besides, I think she owns some store for hippies or whatever." At least, that was what I had heard.

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, not convinced. "Yeah, but if the gods were called to Olympus, and then it was closed, why wouldn't she go, anyway?"

"She's a minor goddess," I shot back, getting a little fed up. Couldn't she just go with it? What's with the twenty questions? But I knew she was only being like this so no one else could point out the obvious and ruin the plan. Whatever the plan was precisely. "She's a free spirit, that chick; doesn't like to follow others' rules, you know? At least, that's how Tanya described her when she met her mother in a dream that one time."

Riley sighed, not in defeat but rather in exasperation. "Whatever. So, we lie. Then what're _we_ going to do to figure this out?"

I made one of my famous snap second decisions. "Let's say that Artemis told us we had to stay at camp while she was away. We're going to compare notes and wring the truth out of Rachel." It wasn't a question of if we should go, I was stating that we were going to go, no matter how much the huntresses complained and bitched about it.

"Whatever," she repeated.

I nodded towards the outside of the tent with a questioning look. She shrugged, and followed me out into the center of the campsite, by the ashes of the fire that used to burn, right where I had my... uh, talk with Hestia. Riley sat down on one of the logs surrounding the fire pit, resting her arms on her knees and clasping her hands in the middle. I shot her a look, but she just smiled up at me sweetly.

I took in a big gulp of air, before screaming my lungs out in the loudest yell that had ever left my mouth. Riley's hands flew up to cover her ears, but I honestly doubted that that did much for her. My mouth was so wide, that my eyes squeezed shut tightly and involuntarily. It was now that I realized just what a set a lungs I had on me, so it wasn't all too surprising that, though no one had come running when Riley shrieked as it hadn't been nearly as loud, girls came running out of their tents in a panic, their bows drawn and loaded with arrows. I knew that not all of them would have woken up on their own, but it was simple logic to assume that the ones who were awake had gotten the others up.

Phoebe was in the lead. She came running up to me, her eyes darting around frantically. "What's wrong?!" There was a fearful edge in her voice. I had stopped screaming when she had gotten within 10 yards of me.

I grabbed Riley's arm and hulled her to her feet. She glared at me, but it wasn't one of her death glares, just one of the annoyed looks she handed out on a regular basis. By now, all the Hunters of Artemis had gathered around me and Riley, but they were all still in a chaotic mess, so I cupped my hands over my mouth and shouted, "Shut it!"

Being the lieutenant, they listened fairly quickly, which was a relief, as I think I was losing my voice. Riley nodded at me when I glanced back at her. "Alright! Now, I have an announcement or two for you guys."

"Girls! We're girls!" shouted someone in the back.

I rolled my eyes. "No, you don't say?" I grumbled sardonically.

I calmly waited until I had everyone's attention, their eyes trained on me, watching my every move, and then began. I basically spit out the story about Olympus closing (and maybe it really had), answered a few questions, and silenced a few outbursts (when I mentioned packing up to stay at Camp Half-Blood, it took ten whole minutes to cool them down), but in the end of it all, they seemed to accept the lie. Except for Skylar. Her features showed not skepticism, but a knowing look which clearly stated she was the one who Artemis had confided in, who had found out. I didn't like that all too much, but it wasn't too surprising; she was the daughter of Nyx, therefore she was bound to know something was up, and we would have had to ask her if she knew anything anyway. So I found it completely normal that she would stay behind when everyone else had gone back to sleep, to pack up, or to train. Riley, obviously, stayed behind as well, crossing her arms and standing slightly behind me and off to the side. If you gave the girl some shades, she'd be a great bodyguard.

"Yes, Skylar?" I asked coolly. Skylar and I had never had an easy relationship. She was beautiful, intuitive, and, most notably, extremely nosy. I respected her, and worked well with her, but as a person, she just wasn't the type of friendly acquaintance I might chat with if I saw her on the streets.

"I know what really happened, but before you ask, the only thing she told me was that something huge was going to happen, and that she'd disappear in a day or two. I was supposed to tell you the second she vanished, but I fell asleep. Lady Artemis told me to tell you: "September 27th." I'm not sure what that means, but she told me to tell you, so..." Her voice trailed off like the ending note of a song. She shook her head lightly, her black curly hair bobbing from the movement. "But anyway, what I really wanted was to know what time we'll be leaving for Camp Half-Blood." She wrinkled her nose at the name, but didn't make a jab at the campers or anything, which was sad, because I really wanted an excuse to punch somebody right about now.

I didn't reply. Riley answered for me. "Why is that of interest to you?" she inquired, suspicious, gray eyes calculating.

Skylar shrugged lightly with a small, seemingly innocent smile. "I guess I just like to know things is all."

"That's all?" Riley pressed.

Skylar shrugged again, one side of her smile dropping into a smirk.

They did that a lot. Riley and Skylar. Both very smart girls, both wanting to prove they knew more than the other or was more perceptive or something like that. I got the whole "wanting to prove you're better than someone else" part, but the "battle of the brains" was a total Annabeth thing. So anyway, I was used to their little stand-offs by now; Riley's evil pranking genius was often used on her rival.

I sighed heavily. "Soon," I huffed, with a pointed look from Skylar back to her tent.

She nodded, but made no move to leave. "You know, if you need advice or help with figuring this thing out..." She gave Riley a challenging stare. "Well, you know who my mother is, so I'd be glad to help out. If you need it that is," she added the last part with a quick smirk that I barely caught.

Oh yeah, Skylar was just one big smiley face. Ha ha, good one. But she tries to seem so innocent, like she can't do any wrong. It's like when we play poker: she'll let everyone else raise but then she lays down a flush out of nowhere. I bet she thinks she's so clever, fooling everyone like that. But not me; I saw right through that facade. So did Riley.

"I don't think it will come to that," Riley said tightly. I glanced back at her from the corner of my eye. Her lips were pursed, and her eyes glared with enough force to cut clean through celestial bronze, or maybe even Stygian iron.

Skylar smiled sickeningly and turned on her heel to all but skip back to her tent. Ugh. I felt like I might vomit. Riley didn't look much better; we both detested overly girly girls with a certain passion you wouldn't be able to find anywhere else. We watched her back until she disappeared from our sights, not moving an inch.

"I don't trust her," Riley stated sharply at last, shattering the thick silence.

I simply nodded. I hardly trusted anyone or anything these days.

* * *

Everything had been packed up, though there was hardly a huntress who had to carry something. Once upon a time, Artemis had asked Hephaestus to make it so the tents and everything in them could be sucked into a little cube so that it made it more convenient for traveling. He hadn't disappointed. The wolves didn't need leashes; they were too well trained. And our hunting birds would simply fly along with us from overhead. Getting over thirty girls and all their stuff across a state or two without any vehicles? Surprisingly easy.

We ran faster than mortals and regular nymphs and demigods. We could literally sprint the length of the entire east coast in two days or so. Of course, even we would get tired eventually and have to stop for breaks, but all in all, it was a magnificent feat. Or at least, we used to be able to do that. For a reason I'm guessing is linked to the capturing of Artemis, we couldn't run as fast as we usually would have been able to, and we didn't have as much endurance.

I was also noticing that some of the girls who had joined more recently were looking a bit less like immortals; the glow was fading. And I was willing to bet that soon it'd be gone entirely, and they'd go back to what they were before they joined the Hunt. The ability to hit a bull's eye every time with a bow and arrows would surely fade as well. Of course, they would still be great shots because of how many times they'd used a bow and arrow, but they'd no longer be _perfect_ archers. And eventually, that would happen for all of us. And then what?

The Hunt wouldn't be over. Surely not. We just wouldn't be as skilled as we used to be, we just wouldn't be immortal anymore. Immortality had taken a bit to get used to, and it would take a while to learn to live without it. Because, unless we could bring Artemis back, we'd have to get used to the idea of time again. I hated time. It was an annoying pain in my ass, especially considering this was the second time I was pulled out of it. The first time in the tree, and the second when I joined the Hunters of Artemis.

I looked to my left at Justina, to my right at Skylar, in front of me at Phoebe, and behind me at Riley. I may not have liked some of the girls in the Hunt, but we were a family all the same. I didn't want to lose that. I was sick of everything falling around me; I didn't want to lose what I had here too.

Annabeth and I were scarred people. The two of us and been through so much shit, and then we met each other and Luke, and it wasn't perfect, but I had finally belonged somewhere: with them. And then Grover found us, and then Hades's minions found me, and then we found Camp Half-Blood, and I found my death. Or rather, my transformation into a fucking tree. I was in that tree for years. Six years, almost seven. In that time, Luke had turned evil. And then Grover's distress call, and Annabeth was lost.

But then came the Hunt, and I felt like things might be alright again. No. Of course not. Because time still passed and I was still here. And now Artemis was gone and the Hunt was most likely going to fall apart. And then I'd be alone again. No. I would most definitely not be able to handle it this time.

But then I was suddenly pulled out of my memories of better days by a searing pain on the back of my hand. I dropped to my knees, clutching my right hand in my left. It was burning. I bit down on my tongue hard to repress a scream. Gods, I couldn't even describe the pain. It was like someone had a red hot sword fresh out of the fire and was carving into my skin with it.

Everyone started crowding around me, until our medic, Lucy, yelled for everyone to give me some space, and grabbed my hand to inspect, which made the fire hurt more. I saw Riley nudge her way to the front of the crowd, and drop down beside us.

"Let me see," Riley ordered, not giving Lucy a chance to respond as she peeled my left hand off my right, and held it out to see. From the people closest to us, gasps could be heard, and some low murmuring. My stomach turned at the sight. It hurt even more once I was looking at it. Fucking burning. On the back of my hand, in fiery silver lettering, the word "Avenge" was carved into my skin. It was fresh; blood leaked from the wound.

Avenge... Avenge what? Avenge who...? Oh...

"Do you know what this is?" Riley demanded of Lucy, who had snatched my hand back from Riley and was now examining it closely.

Lucy's dark eyes flew up to meet mine. Her expression was grave. "If I had to guess, a message from the goddess of the moon."


	6. Desert Song

**The Dark Side of the Moon Series: Taken (Book 1)**

**Part 1: Lieutenant of the Shattered**

**Chapter 6: Desert Song  
**

* * *

_Long Island, Camp Half-Blood_

_October 8th, 10:02 a.m._

_Grover Underwood, Member of the Council of Cloven Elders, Lord of the Wild_

* * *

It scared me. Everything around me was truly haunting me: the state of the forest, nature. The trees seemed to sag and the flowers to wilt and the grass less green and the strawberry fields duller, not producing as much fruit, and the sun's happy rays practically almost forced and the air was brittle and stale. Nature always hears word of the great tragedies first, and this was it's own way of mourning. It was like when Thalia's tree had been poisoned all those years back. The atmosphere just felt so wrong and... and _sickly_. Of course, Half-Blood Hill wasn't literally seeping with venom this time, just suffering the aftermath of a nature goddess being stolen away from the world.

It hadn't taken awhile for this to sink it, the fact that my home really was in danger, it was suffering, changing for the worst. Maybe that was just because we were still, after years, feeling the effects of the last war. We'd lost so many, so much. We were still in the rebuilding stage. Maybe this really didn't come as that much of a surprise to me. Maybe I'd been expecting it. Maybe I'd already accepted it would happen. But... well, now that it was here... I didn't really know what to do or how to cope. How to fix it.

I was walking through the woods, walking by myself that is, but I wasn't alone necessarily; you're never alone in these woods, or ever really. I'd learned that a long time ago. It was too quiet though, too still. It was eerie. I saw a few naiads sitting together in a clump, glumly staring off into nowhere on the bank of the river that usually served as a rendezvous and the boundary between Camp Half-Blood and the deep woods, where the real monsters were lurking. They weren't talking, which in and of itself was extremely weird. That's how you know something is wrong: when the naiads aren't gossiping, because even they realize the graveness of the situation at hand.

It was all too dull. Too dead. It really did scared me, more than any Cyclops ever could.

It was a hazy walk; everything was all sort of muted, as if I were only half conscious. A few dryads bowed their heads as I walked passed, but almost none of them spoke to me. That had taken a lot of getting used to: being respected. I mean, most of my life I had been overlooked or scorned for my many failures. But after Titan War II, everything sort of just spun a 180. Sometimes, I'd still find myself groveling at the feet of the other two official members of the Council of Cloven Elders, until I slapped myself mentally and reminded myself that we were equals now. It's still really, _really_ weird.

Then again, what wasn't weird when you were dealing with Greek myths and gods? I wondered how hard it had to be for demigods, to not know about this world, to not grow up with it and around it like it was all perfectly normal, like it was home. And Camp Half-Blood _was _my home. This _was_ my normal. This _was_ reality... and it was suddenly all too real right now, I thought, taking in the dying forest around me.

I hadn't always stayed here, but I never really knew my dad as he went off to search for Pan early on in my life. I could guess where he was now; I frowned at the thought. And mom died pretty early on too, though from what I could remember of her, she was great. I really felt that Percy and Annabeth were my family. And Thalia was a great friend too, if a bit aggressive. Nico just kind of scared me though. And so did Clarisse. And Tyson. And the Stolls; above all others, they were _not_ to be trusted. But Katie Gardener was really nice, of course; she an all the other Demeter kids were always out here in the forest, as they shared our love of nature. And then, of course, there was Juniper. I'd never imagined I could feel as happy as I did when I was with her. I wasn't happy right now, obviously; I was depressed and fairly angry given what was happening to these woods and the Earth. These woods were my home. I felt like they were my woods, my place. That serenity was gone now, vanished out of the night.

By the gods, I would find out what caused this. Who had messed with the very thing I was most passionate about? My love for nature had taken several hits before, but I always got back up. This time, the goddess of the hunt and moon just... vanished. Taken. Kidnapped. Disappeared. She was gone. If someone didn't bring her back... what would become of the delicate balance of things?

I heard the fallen leaves of autumn crunching quietly underneath my hooves. I smelled the fresh mud from the rain that had come late last night. I tasted the stale air on my tongue. I felt the stillness of the woods. I could all but _see _the damage being done, the damage that had already been inflicted, and the damage that was sure to occur. The poison. The venom. The virus. Or maybe the precise word I'm looking for is, quite simply, _illness_.

Without fully realizing it, my legs guided me to Juniper's tree. It's where I'd usually go upon first entering the woods, so, naturally, my subconscious would want to take me there. She was sitting high up in one of the branches, legs dangling down, hair obscuring her face. I heard her singing softly to herself, though I couldn't identify the song.

The lyrics weren't particularly haunting or eerie like everything else around me, but the way she sung them... and the tune and the rhythm... it was off. It was neither depressing, nor happy. It just, for some reason, didn't seem to fit the scene, even though it was quite obvious it should have. She sung of nature, no surprise in that, but the last line of the chorus really bothered me:

_And steal the soul to sell_

It wasn't just nature she sung of, it was the current state of it, and the tragedy of that. However, she did have a beautiful voice, light and airy, she was able to hit the most extreme notes. Music, she'd often told me, was one of her favorite things, her passion. Music was, and always had been, a great part of the world after all. It brought everything to life, even if the song itself was dead. I guess that seems a little bit contradictory but it made perfect sense to me; it wasn't the type of thing that could be easily explained.

I didn't think she noticed me, so I leaned up against her tree and patiently waited for the song to end, staring up at her. I wasn't kept expectant for long. Juniper brushed her long hair behind her ears, and peered down at me, expressionless. But there was that same sadness in her eyes as there was in any other nymph's, whether they be satyr or dryad or naiad or aura or nereid or whatever. Her big green eyes weren't puffy and red, they were not filled with to the brim with tears. She just gazed down at me solemnly for the most part, until, eventually, she climbed down to the forest's floor, and stood facing me, about an arm's length apart. She was leaning forward slightly. her body too tense. She didn't seem like herself at all. But maybe that was to be expected.

We stared into each others eyes for a bit, watching the other quietly. After a few moments of this type of silence, she spoke, managing a small smile. "Hello, Grover." Her voice was strained.

"Hi, Juniper," I choked out, shuffling my hooves nervously, and allowed my eyes to drift to the ground, avoiding eye contact.

More "silence."

She took a heavy breath. "I'm sure you must be wondering. It's just a little tune we sing in times such as these. It's very old; no one really uses it much anymore; there's usually no reason to. It's supposed to help us come to terms with things and take them face to face. It's supposed to inspire hope, even if it sounds rather... odd."

"You have a great voice." I managed not to blush while saying this, telling myself it was simply a fact, and she was my girlfriend, so I shouldn't still be embarrassed by complementing her.

Juniper's eyes fled to her feet; I noticed when mine flashed up briefly to gauge her reaction. "Thanks." She smiled softly. "Don't you have some important council meeting or something after... this?" She had a distant look in her eyes, her eyebrows pulling together slightly.

I hesitantly bit my lip, shifting my weight from hoof to hoof. "I don't think so. I mean, we probably should call a meeting of the Council of Cloven Elders, but everything has become rather disorganized lately. I'm not sure we'd really accomplish anything, even if we did meet. Just promote more fear; Chiron was right about talking about it too much."

"Still," she persisted.

I shrugged noncommittally. It was an honor to be on the Council, it truly was, but really, it was rare the meetings ever accomplished anything of consequence at all. Of course, I'd like to find some way to change that. I'd like to stand up for what I believe in, and I do, but... well, we can't all be Percy. I'm not really the outspoken type, I still got nervous all too easily, and that fact annoyed me a lot more than I thought it should.

Juniper sighed, almost imperceptibly, and began about the task of climbing back up her juniper tree, not turning to offer me a goodbye or a glance or anything. She just started climbing.

"Juniper!" I cupped my hands around my mouth while shouting up after her.

She only looked at me once she was situated in a lower branch. She smiled, but it was grim, forced. She looked... worn out. _Sick... _No, I thought, sudden realization hitting me. Juniper...

I was snapped out of my horrifying revelation by her distressed, but still beautiful voice. "You better head off then, either way. With the state of these trees around me, I can only imagine how different the rest of the forest looks. Take care of yourself, Grover. I have a feeling this is only the beginning." And she continued on back into her strange song, as if I had already left.

I nodded to myself, turning away. She was right. Yes, this was only the beginning of something much more horrific, I thought, glancing up at the sky and the slowly ascending sun, still low in the sky. The sun seemed to burn brighter than usual, as if compensating for the long night. I smiled a small smile at the light streaming in through the weak leaves hanging off of the trees. The leaves would all fall, as they always did, but the trees still lived on through the winter, given new life with the dawn of spring. This was the natural order of things. Of course, it'd be dark. I glanced behind me at Juniper one last time and then continued on. But things would get better, right? Eventually... I mean, there's always a dawn. There had to be.


	7. House of Wolves

**The Dark Side of the Moon Series: Taken (Book 1)**

**Part 1: Lieutenant of the Shattered**

**Chapter 7: House of Wolves**

* * *

_The Underworld, Hades' Palace_

_October 8th, 10:38 a.m._

_Nico di Angelo, Son of Hades, Head Councilor of the Hades Cabin, the Ghost King_

* * *

I hated my alarm clock. Have I ever mentioned that? No? Well, I do; it's highly irritating. I couldn't figure out how to change the ringer on it, so it's stuck on the standard, obnoxious, blaring noise that makes me want to chuck it across the room. I refrained from doing that though; I knew if I ended up breaking it, I'd just have to go get a new one because otherwise I'd never be able to wake up in the morning.

If I could have everything my way, I would find the person responsible for making mornings so unpleasant and give him or her the worst torment in the Fields of Punishment. While we're on the topic, if I could control everything, I'd destroy all the bad music that, for some reason, people today like. What happened to the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Green Day and Weezer and Nirvana? I understand that not everyone would find the other side of my music preferences enjoyable (Skillet, Silverstein, Suicidal Tendencies, et cetera). But you'd think that people would recognize the truly great music out there. No. This world is doomed through stupidity, I swear it.

I hate bad music. I hate my alarm. What else? I hate commercials and sales people. And bright lights. I hate mornings and morning people. I have a dislike for people in general, especially stupid people; I consider them a hazard to society. I hate small spaces, fined spaces. And overly nice airplane attendants. And airplanes and boats and cars and basically mortal modes of transportation in general. I hate snow; however, on the other hand, I love rain and storms. And I especially hate the way the Aphrodite cabin smells, and the Aphrodite cabin and the people in it in general. I'm not too big on Camp Half-Blood as a whole either. Hmm... I think I may have a problem here...

But anyway, I'm getting a little off track here. You aren't reading this with the sole purpose of listening to me rant, are you? No; I didn't really think so.

Moving on. Sleeping on a couch every night, you'd assume that it'd start to get uncomfortable after a while, correct? It never did actually. I believe I mentioned this before: children of Hades can fall asleep anywhere at any given time; pointless power but I tended to love it, more than raising the dead anyway. I mean, it didn't beat out controlling the dead, just raising them, because that shit toke a lot of work. But anyway, sleeping on a couch didn't bother me the way it would bother any normal person.

My room was always dark, unless I flipped the light switch that is (underground here; no sunlight whatsoever), but I could see well in the dark, and even better now that my powers had been strengthened. Maybe whoever took Artemis could take Apollo too; I'd have even more power then. And besides, without him to recite his horrid poetry, the world would be a much better place. Really, whoever toke Artemis would have been doing everyone a real favor if they got rid of her twin brother instead. But what am I saying? Bad, Nico. Bad. You don't think like that. Well, I do, but I shouldn't. Artemis disappearing, and therefore the light of the moon, was a serious problem that promised a lot of drama. I don't like drama or problems either, come to think of it. Or Apollo, but that should be obvious.

I really didn't like too many of the gods and goddesses; most of them were just kind of stuck up or full of themselves. A few where fine, I suppose, but I made an effort to be on good terms with all of them, being respectful and holding my tongue and stuff, so they didn't smite me randomly. Persephone not included that is.

But some serious shit was going on around here, and I should probably find out what it was and stop it sooner rather than later. So that's what motivated me to hull my lazy ass off the couch, throw on a t-shirt, and trudge down the stairs to the kitchen on the bottom floor. You can't rush off to save the world on an empty stomach after all. Come to think of, there's not much you _can_ do on an empty stomach. The importance of food, my friends; if you don't see it, you're a bloody idiot.

I paused for a moment on the stairwell, my feet haltingly their descent abruptly. Bloody? Since when did that become apart of my vocabulary. I shook my head absently and continued on my way. Reading too many damn British novels again; hey, even if I was dyslexic, I made an effort to read so that if I ever really needed it, it would be no problem at all for me. Stuff set in England just happened to be awesome. Or, maybe, if I was being honest with myself, I just liked talking with an accent.

I'm getting distracted again. I'm so godsdamn ADHD.

All the servants here were dead. The only person who wasn't dead in the Underworld was me. Dad and the witch don't count because they're immortal. Same goes for Demeter (though she tries to avoid visiting if she can help it), and all the minor gods and goddesses that hang around here sometimes. So the cook, unsurprisingly was just another set of bones that couldn't talk beyond a chattering sound. Of course, if I strained my powers enough, I could tell what the dead were actually trying to say. It was easier for me to do now, but I rarely _wanted_ to know what they were saying. But, that's beside that point. Point is: despite my not caring to decipher what the cook was saying most of the time, he/she/it could really make some amazing pancakes. I always had to eat when Persephone and Demeter weren't around; Demeter would bother me about eating cereal instead and Persephone would complain I ate too messily. I'm a fifteen year old demigod; manners aren't my first priority by any means, oh stepmother dearest.

The kitchen is really impressive to look at, like one you might picture in a five star restaurant. There's a steel door that leads to the freezer, at least half a dozen stoves, an island with bar stools around it and silver pots and pans hanging above it. The actual size of the room was enormous, with immaculately polished floors. The cook, her team of six assistants, and I were typically the only people ever in here. Unless dad was pissed and needed someone to fire that is.

After I ate clean a few plates worth of breakfast food, and put the dishes in the dishwasher, the cook left through the swinging door in the back. Technically, the cook is supposed to clean up, but the cook always leaves before I can ask (I think he/she/it does that on purpose) (I seriously need to either learn the cook's name, or make up on), so I'm stuck running the dishwasher and putting the dishes away since I'm in here every couple of hours or so. The three places you could probably find me in hell are as follows: my room, walking along the banks of one of the rivers, or the kitchen. The kitchen really was more of my second bedroom, but whatever.

After exiting the kitchen (through one of the several different doors) you enter the dining room. It's basically empty save the long, cherry wood table in the center. At the head of the table sat my father, with Persephone to his right. Dad was agitated; Persephone appeared bored at first, but her expression twisted into one of disgust when I entered. They were both staring at me, as if they had been anticipating my arrival fairly soon.

"Don't scrunch up your nose like that; you'll get wrinkles," I said offhandedly to the witch. She, of course, retaliated with a huff and looked away, her nose turned up in the air. I wondered if she knew that just made her look more ridiculous. Before I could further comment, dad snapped at me.

"_Nico."_

I raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Father?"

"Sit down."

I pulled back the seat to his left, being sure to drag the chair so it made that annoying squeaking sound that I knew Persephone couldn't stand. Sure enough, she pursed her lips, but managed to refrain from saying anything.

"Pursing your lips gives you wrinkles too."

She let out a shriek of indignation at the same time Hades thundered, "_Nico_!" slamming his hand down on the table, partly because he was fed up and partly for effect. Dad's jaw tightened and he started to rub his temples with his thumbs lightly. Not a particularly good sign. "Now is _not_ the time. There's enough tension around already. Either you two can _get along_, or I'm locking you in the dungeons for a week!"

Hmm. That's how I knew he was serious, because he said "dungeons" as opposed to "your room."

I sighed heavily, my right elbow on the table with my hand supporting my head while my left made a "carry on" motion. "So, what is this about?" I asked.

He shot me a look that very clearly expressed how pissed off he was at the moment. "You _know_ what this is about. Artemis has disappeared, one. Secondly, the power balance has been upset. Olympus has been closed, as well as the Underworld. No one gets in, and no one goes out."

He probably would have continued, but I cut in there, sitting up at bit, dropping my hand from my head in a note of seriousness. "What about all the souls that need to get into the Underworld? They'll just be lost?"

"It's only temporary. We'll keep them bottled up in the lobby."

"It'll fill up real quick," I countered at a normal pitch, but then muttered under my breath, "Charon won't like that."

"What was that?" he snapped.

"Nothing, nothing," I drawled in a lazy voice to disguise my surprise. But then, he was a god; it shouldn't startle me that he would be able to hear me. "Continue."

"I need you to do a head count; make sure the people who are supposed to be in Tartarus stay in Tartarus and make sure everyone is accounted for, understand?"

I nodded absently, my mind wandering off to ponder the aftermath of his terrible decision to shut down the Underworld. I mean, sure, I understand the nobody goes out part (that had always been the rule though, hadn't it?), but we can't leave the overworld to flood over with spirits and ghosts because dad won'tlet them get in.

But apparently nodding off wasn't good enough, because he slammed his fist down on the table again, with more force this time, shaking it and making Persephone jump. "This is serious!"

"I know."

"Then act like it! Something's going on here, and we need to figure out what! Cooperate!"

"Fine."

Hades huffed. "Just... just get away from me. _Now._"

So, with a nod of my head at the god of death, ignoring Persephone completely, I headed back up the many steps to my room to grab some shoes and change my pants so I could go run around the Underworld playing babysitter. But I knew he was right: this was serious, and we did need to figure this whole mess out. Isn't that what I'd just been saying? I hesitated before donning a jacket and snatching up my emergency bag and IPod as well. I had one of those feelings again; somehow I knew I wouldn't be coming back here for a while, if ever.


	8. Teenagers

**The Dark Side of the Moon Series: Taken (Book 1)**

**Part 1: Lieutenant of the Shattered**

**Chapter 9: Teenagers**

* * *

_Long Island, Camp Half-Blood_

_October 8th, 11:48 p.m._

_Travis Stoll, Son of Hermes, Co-Head Councilor of the Hermes Cabin_

* * *

"What the Hades is wrong with you?" Katie ground out between her teeth, holding her head in her hand. She was breathing deeply, trying to calm down I'd guess. Well now, we most definitely couldn't have that, could we?

I glanced over my shoulder at my little brother. He was poised behind the side of the Demeter cabin, his head sticking out to observe the damage. I was standing at the door in plain sight, in front of a very green and red Katie Gardener. She was dosed in green paint from head to toe, and her face was red in anger and embarrassment. Oh, and I might have attached a huge sunflower to her forehead. The idea was for her body to be green like the stem, and then put the flower on the top of her head. Daughter of Demeter, get it? Good one, eh?

But for some reason, Conner wasn't grinning and cheering; he was hiding, and mouthing something along the lines of "Get out of there!" at me. Now why would he be doing that? Hmm...

I turned back around just in time to get slapped across the face, my head snapping to the left, and then to the right as Katie slapped my other cheek. I blinked, and then, after a second, shrugged and started to chuckle. "Didn't know you were into S&M, Gardener." Still laughing, I shook my head at her and went to start off on my merry way. But Katie apparently wasn't done yet, because I felt something hit my back. I saw Conner face palm, and begin to walk away before things got too... messy.

I spun on my heel to look back at Katie, the squished tomato at my feet, and then the vines growing around her, ripe with the rest of the tomatoes she was planning to peg at me. I slowly brought my head back up to meet her glare with a narrowed, but level, stare. "Oh, it's _on_ now," I declared with a smirk, before pulling my miniature paintball guns out of my belt, and beginning to go into rapid fire mode. Katie, of course, immediately began hurling her tomatoes at me, until I was dosed in the juice with tomatoes littering the ground around me, and she was painted a much smoother, darker green.

Right before I would have made her surrender, Annabeth, with Malcolm trailing her silently like a bodyguard, decided to barge straight into the middle of our war; you'd think a daughter of Athena would be smarter than that, right? Uh-uh. She got nailed in the face with a green paintball that probably would have only scraped the top Katie's head, but ended up hitting Annabeth smack in the forehead. I started to snicker to myself, until I realized that now I had two pissed teenage girls glaring daggers at me, and the smile fell off my lips as I began fearing for my life.

Annabeth crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. Malcolm gave me a sympathetic look. And Katie? She smiled sweetly at me and began to head back inside of the Demeter cabin, but Annabeth's hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

"What?" Katie complained. "_I _didn't do anything."

I snorted.

She glared.

It's a nice little game we've been playing for a while. At least, I thought of it as a game. Katie thought of it as me aggravating her. But, come on, no one can stay mad at _me_ for long. I'm Travis Stoll, the god of hotness and charisma, hello, pleasure to meet you. Katie was just about the only person I'd ever met who could hold a grudge against me. And that's why it was so fun to annoy her. Honestly, I just loved messing with her.

Annabeth, however... I'm not stupid enough to joke with Annabeth. Everybody knows _she_ can't take a joke, and will annihilate, and I mean _annihilate, _anyone who would dare to pull any kind of funny business with her.

Speaking of Percy's demonic girlfriend, she gripped my arm as well, and began to hull us off to the Big House.

"Conner!" I called over my shoulder. "Code 5! Code 5! Save me!" Whatever was going on could not be good. She was going to bring us to Chiron and I'd get kitchen duty for a month. Chiron was getting more and more strict with the Hermes cabin lately, and was tolerating me and Conner's little pranks less and less. Our whole cabin was being pushed to the limit trying to keep all our tricks secret and leave no traces behind if someone did find out about a particular prank or other.

"Malcolm, go find Conner," Annabeth ordered, and her brother ran off to go catch mine.

"You're not gonna, like, kill us or anything, right Annabeth...?" I asked nervously.

"Yeah," Katie added. "I didn't even do anything! It was all the Stolls' fault!"

"Oh, come on, Gardener. At least admit you brought it on yourself."

"And how's that?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Honestly, grow a brain, why don't you? How could I have known about your little 'paintball war?'" She made air quotes with her fingers, momentarily releasing our arms, but grabbing them again before we could dash off. "And if I hadn't known about it, how could I go over to punish you for it? I was told to go round up the cabin leaders; there's a meeting."

"There's always a meeting about something or another." I sighed dramatically, shaking my head in mock disappointment. "Seriously, what good is Clovis gonna be in a war council? What's the point of Pullox being there for another Ares cabin versus Apollo cabin shout out? What do they want Katie to do when we're talking strategy?"

"Hey!"

"Oh, come on; stop lying to yourself. You aren't worth a drachma in strategy."

Katie was about to retort, but Annabeth threw us into the room just then, the one with the long dark wooden table that we'd recently been using for meetings, which sent us stumbling over our feet, and falling over each other. Katie landed on top of me. My left arm bent at an odd angle underneath me. And Katie's hands shot out on either side of my face to stop herself from head butting me.

"Hello, Katherine." I smiled merrily up to her.

She scowled. "Don't call me that."

"Well, it's your name, isn't it?"

"No. My name is Katie. If you mean the name my mother gave me, it's just Kate."

"Well then, hello, Just Kate."

"Get a room!" Clarisse growled somewhere off to my left.

I rolled my eyes at that. "Yes, Clarisse; because that's such an original line."

Katie's cheeks reddened and she huffed as she pushed herself off of me, holding out her hand to help me up as an afterthought. I took it, hulled myself to my feet, and glanced around the room. Almost everyone was here now. We were missing Lou Ellen, Conner still wasn't back yet, and Nico wasn't at camp, but everyone else was seated around the long table that had sat in that same spot for Zeus knows how many decades. Annabeth, Katie, and I took our seats as well.

A few people were still chatting, more like arguing, until Malcolm dragged my brother through the door, and tossed him over towards me, where he proceeded to fall into the empty chair beside me. Malcolm glanced around at the cabin leaders with a blank expression, before he went to stand behind Annabeth's chair, putting his hands on the back of it and leaning forward slightly. Annabeth shot him a confused look but Chiron only smiled.

"Alright," Chiron announced. "This meeting is now in session." He looked around, meeting every pair of eyes in the room. "I'm sure we all know why I have called you all together."

"Personally, I don't see the need to call on this whole war or whatever. We still have, like, electricity. I don't see what the big problemo is." Three guesses who that was. I hated Drew; she was a over-controlling bitch. And a bit of an airhead come to think of it. Sure, she had a pretty face, but a pretty face isn't much in a world of monsters.

I missed the days of Silena and Beckondorf, the Michael Yew and Clarisse fights, Percy being a regular camper, a happy Nico di Angelo, the sunny days flying pegasi over the beach before the war, the campfire sing alongs where there were few campers but high flames and bright colors, when the Hermes cabin wasn't the only one participating in the prank wars, Capture the Flag against the Hunters of Artemis... I missed those days more than I wanted to let on.

I scowled at Drew, as did many other people. Katie was the one to put her in her place, unsurprisingly. Katie would put anyone in there place if they deserved it; I knew because quite a few times I was the one she was confronting.

"You know Drew, without moonlight, you wouldn't be able to see whatever guy you were making out with in the woods at night. Then again, you don't care who you screw, do you?"

I busted out laughing at that, as did Conner beside me. Most of the people who weren't openly laughing were smiling or looking up at the ceiling, their lips pressed into a tight line. Except for Chiron, who was rubbing his temples. And Drew of course, who was turning red in the face. Sometimes, I forget why I like Katie so much, and then I realize a good part of it is when she gets like this. It's just funny. If she didn't hate my guts, she'd probably be one of my best friends. Unfortunately not a girlfriend though. She made that _painfully_ obvious several times. But I'm Travis Stoll, and Travis Stoll loves a challenge. Anyway, I'm getting off track. Back to the meeting.

"This is serious," snapped Chiron, sounding too much like a frustrated war general who knows he's already lost for me to dare to make any side-comments, or anyone else for that matter. His gaze swept over us, making sure no one would interrupt. Then he continued, "I'm sure you all at least have an idea of what's going on. I've decided to at least let the cabin leaders know, to an extent. But let me make this perfectly clear: nothing that is said in this room is to be repeated. I'm sure there are some of you wondering what Malcolm is doing here; he was the first to figure it out."

I noticed Annabeth's jaw tighten at that, but she kept her composure. I fought a grin; she didn't like being second.

Chiron was about to begin to elaborate, but a sneeze was heard directly outside the door just then. Chiron frowned, and motioned for Pullox (who was closest) to open the door. He did, and in tumbled Piper McLean, falling on her face much like Katie and I earlier.

"Ha! See? It's the damn divider under the door that's making people trip," I exclaimed, gesturing with my hands and leaning up towards the table to emphasize my point to divert attention from Piper so she could get up and make a run for it. I'd taken to having Piper's back ever since she charmspoke a monster in the woods so it wouldn't kill me. For an Aphrodite girl, she was pretty decent, so people tended to like her. She reminded most folk of Silena, I guess. I seriously thought, as did several others, she should be the cabin leader of Aphrodite cabin, but she hadn't been on more quests than Drew (which was none), she hadn't been at camp longer, and she hadn't accomplished anything ground breaking, so she couldn't challenge her reign of terror over the cabin. I was just glad _I_ wasn't in that cabin. Even if Drew wasn't in charge, I don't think I'd come to camp if I had to live with being an Aphrodite kid.

But Piper being Piper didn't get up and run; she got up and went to stand in between Drew and Leo (who was nominated to be the leader of Hephaestus cabin after he found Bunker 9 and put back together that dragon thing... _huge_ chunk of metal that thing was). She held her chin high, a defiant look in her eyes. "I already know what's going on, so there's no point in making me leave. And besides, even if I didn't, you all know that Leo would tell me anyway."

All eyes then turned on Leo. He just shrugged, and spread his hands in a "what can I say?" gesture. "I'm not denying it."

Chiron stared hard at her, and she stared back. Chiron sighed and tiredly told Pullox to go shut the door and lock it.

Drew's face, which had faded to pink, was back to cherry red, this time in anger. "Chiron, Piper is not allowed to be here."

Hmm. Well she did have a point. Piper was not a cabin leader. Piper shouldn't be allowed here. I could see everyone else nodding along too, and that's when I realized she was using charmspeak and snapped myself out of it.

But Piper was a charmspeaker too. "I _am_ allowed here," she insisted, with a certain emphasis in her voice that was more powerful than Drew's. And then everyone was nodding along at Piper's point, thinking "yes, she has a better argument" most likely, meanwhile I just found the little ordeal unnecessary yet amusing.

Drew huffed and shrunk down in her seat. "Whatever."

"So, basically, Artemis was taken," Percy suddenly spit out.

Several jaws dropped. Clovis fell off his chair. Leo muttered, "Damn," under his breath. Drew rolled her eyes. Butch raised his eyebrows slightly in what was, for him at least, the equivalent of complete and utter astonishment. Annabeth shot Percy a look that made me fear she'd kill him. And Chiron's face became a mask of grimness.

Percy continued, "Her power is being drained, thus the moon's light is a lot fainter. We have confirmation from Thalia Grace, Artemis's lieutenant, for those who don't know her. My powers have weakened as well, because, at night, the moon pulls the tide. We I.M'd Nico di Angelo too. He said his powers had increased, and we're guessing it's from the sudden overwhelming amount of darkness. Something very powerful must have done this, or maybe a bunch of powerful things."

Malcolm shot Percy a look similar to the one Annabeth was still giving him. But he took it upon himself to explain a bit further. "We can guess that the Hunters of Artemis have lost some of their power as well, and they may even cease to be immortal once Artemis's power is completely gone. But even then, we might still see the moon because of the old moon goddess Selene. And we already know from Rachel that they will be coming here soon. I'm speculating that Apollo might disappear as well and that Olympus will close, or has already closed. That's why Dionysus was summoned up there."

It was then Annabeth's turn to do the talking. "We don't know who or what has done this, but we think that maybe the Hunt might have some clue. And remember not to let any of this leak out. We don't want more panic then there already is. A quest will probably be launched soon, so just hang in there and instruct those in your cabin not to be outdoors after sunset. Also, for anyone whose powers connect to Artemis's, even to the widest extent, don't use them too much. That goes especially for the Apollo cabin. Any questions?"

Will Solace pursed his lips. "Why? I mean with the power thing?"

She gave him an odd stare. "As a precaution."

He stared back for a few moments before pursing his lips and nodding, then turning to look out the window, off into the fields. "So what's the reason I give my cabin to not exert their powers?"

"Just tell them it's orders from Chiron."

Chiron looked up at that, but nodded his consent. He sighed. Normally, he just looked like a middle-aged, coffee drinking, Latin teacher. Now? He looked his age, weary and tired and worn out with eyes that had seen far too much. "And I want you all to know that this is not, by any means, close to over. Just keep that in mind. We aren't sure of the threat yet, as Annabeth said, or of the extent of the damage this will cause. And that means we could be dealing with something above our abilities." His gaze swept around the room once more, before he said, "Dismissed."

Right at the time he said that, a knock was heard on the door.

"Now what?" growled Clarisse.

Pullox unlocked it and pulled it open to reveal a little blonde girl of maybe nine or ten.

Annabeth scowled, pulling her glare away from her boyfriend. "Yes, Cara?"

"The Hunter's of Artemis have just arrived."


	9. Our Lady Of Sorrows

**The Dark Side of the Moon Series: Taken (Book 1)**

**Part 1: Lieutenant of the Shattered**

**Chapter 9: Our Lady of Sorrows  
**

* * *

_Long Island, Camp Half-Blood_

_October 8th, 1:04 p.m._

_Rachel Dare, Oracle of Delphi_

* * *

I stayed in a cave deep in the woods at Camp Half-Blood most days as of late. The torches on either side of the the mysterious purple curtain that hung over the entrance were not of my design, not that I entirely minded them. But as an artist, it bothered me that they didn't compliment the inside, which resembled any modern New York condo. This was also not of my design. However, the artwork that adorned the walls _was_; I had to personalize this place somehow, and what better way than art, one of my very favorite things in life?

I had already been speculating that the Hunt would come to Camp Half-Blood, because it stands to reason that Thalia would come to consult the Oracle of Delphi, which was me, of course. But my, er... _other_ senses had told me they'd come today, so I had basically just been lounging around drawing inconsequential things in my notebook; I didn't want to be in the middle of anything important when the Hunt showed up.

Usually, I'd have attended the cabin leader meeting, but nothing would be discussed that I didn't previously know, and surely they wouldn't need any influence of a greater force. Yet, anyway. Besides, I couldn't even remember the prophecies I spouted. Predictions, however, came every other freaking second in the form of sketches, in the form of dreams, by random tingly feelings, or by something just possessing me to write it down.

But I tried not to think of it as possession. Because it wasn't like I wasn't me anymore. I was still there... I just didn't have control over my body or my words sometimes and I tended to black out for a bit afterwards...

It was so confusing, scary even, in the beginning. I didn't know what was going on or why I could suddenly write in ancient Greek or why I'd get those dreams. Percy had told me about Greek mythology being real, but that hadn't explained what was happening to me. It might have driven me mad. But just as suddenly as it started, I realized why. But that only made me even more terrified. I wasn't afraid of the process not working though, rather I was afraid of the prophecies I might give.

I hated injustice and pain and stress and misery and all the shit that came from prophecies. I knew it wasn't my fault, but I believe that no one should know the future, not even me, because that might just screw it up more. It's best not to guess about your fate, to just live. Ha! As if anyone can simply just live. But that's the dream, isn't it? Dreams. Easily crushed. So hard to let go of. But what would we do without dreams to keep us moving forward, to keep our heads up? They give us the motivation to keep on living.

The only reason I really had for agreeing to... _this, _besides ending the pain the predictions forced on me before I became the Oracle, was to be able to help try to prevent any of the shit the future had in store. But then again, if that wasn't the future, how could I have seen it? Sometimes, I see not just the future, but different versions of the future. It all gets very confusing at times. But I of all people knew that it was entirely possible to change your fate; it's just extremely hard to do.

I flipped the page of my notebook and began to draw the outline of the Empire State building. I'd drawn it at least half a dozen times, all in different colors. This time it was black. Black like the moonless sky. I planned on cutting them out and laying them all out next to each other, overlapping so that it looked like one of those slow motion clips with the trail of the moving object behind it. Black would be last, underneath all the others, and then purple, blue, green, and so on and so forth.

But instead of the Empire State building, my pencil morphed the drawing into Big Ben, the London clock tower. Except it was just the barest outline, because I'd shaded the rest of the paper in very dark. I flipped the page and began to sketch in the same style, dark and vague. This one turned into the Eiffel Tower. I flipped the page again. That one turned into the Great Wall of China. Next, it was the Sydney Opera House. The Great Pyramid. The Coliseum. The Statue of Liberty. And I just kept sketching all the world's most famous sights in that same way.

I frowned down at my notebook, and ripped all the pages I'd just drawn on out, walking over and placing them atop the smooth surface my desk. I'd try to figure out what the Hades that was all about later. Stupid divine influence.

The Hunters. They'd be here very soon. I could feel it. Thalia Grace would come knocking, or barging in rather. And then I'd have to give her a prophecy. And I really was fed up with prophecies at the moment.

Apollo had visited me in a dream last night, the night of Artemis's disappearance. He'd asked if I'd seen anything major lately. I had told him about getting a vision of some weird military-type base. It was the base of the Order, he'd thought. I didn't know where it was, but I could tell him that it was concealed by magic. A very thick layer of magic. Magic so strong, that only the goddess of magic herself could possibly have cast the protection spell. Either Hecate had been taken too, or she was working with the Order. I didn't know. Neither did Apollo. No one did.

I could still remember the short conversation we had had very clearly. And the mark I still had from the searing pain in my hand when I woke up; I couldn't possibly forget that. I'd sat bolt upright, screaming. It had felt like it was burning. Carved into my flesh in fiery orange lettering was one word:

_Avenge_

* * *

I could sense the exact moment when the Hunt entered the borders around Camp Half-Blood. It wouldn't be long now. I sighed as I set down my coffee cup on a coaster on the kitchen's marble counter, leaning back against the cabinets and closing my eyes slowly.

Visions didn't come on demand, so I don't know why I even bothered to humor myself trying when I knew it'd be fruitless. Maybe I just hated not knowing things and was using this desperate last resort to attempt get a glimpse so I could calm down. A glimpse of what, I wasn't sure I particularly cared, just something to show me if it ever got bright again, or how the meeting with Thalia would play out at the very least, if there was any hope at all, anything we could do. Not that I myself could do very much in the ways of fighting or search and rescue.

I let go of a deep breath I didn't know I had been holding and reopened my normal green eyes, not the glowing ones. I pursed my lips as I made my way over to the entrance of my cave, my hideaway place, and pushed the curtain back just far enough to peak out. The woods were dying, the _world_ was dying, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it but sit here and wait for a prophecy. But that's what everyone expected of me, the Oracle. Sometimes I wished they didn't, times like these when everyone else was rushing about doing things. Not that there was much movement at all in the forest now. Dying. My world was falling apart around me. I released my grip on the curtain and turned away shaking my head lightly. And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

There was a back room, more of a closet really, of my cave that was completely empty save for a flat silver disc resting on a low table that worked much the same way as Daedalus's shield worked, showing images of other places in it's reflection. Mine, however, was much more powerful, being able to see anywhere in the entire world; it had been a gift from Apollo a while back. I hardly ever used it, as my forte was the future not the present, but it seemed it could be useful to me now that I knew exactly where the Hunt resided.

The disc showed them trudging up Half-Blood Hill, Thalia leading the way passed her pine tree and down into the valley, setting out for the Big House. I was only slightly surprised at their numbers, well over what they had been last time I'd seen them; a quick head count revealed about thirty of them. The glow had faded some, I also observed, not that I hadn't known it would but it was another thing entirely to see it's affects firsthand.

It was depressing in a way: the world was changing rapidly and here I was, the same, standing still unable to do much of anything at all. I was apart of this world, that I knew, but that didn't mean I was_ in_ it. I was still mortal, no matter being the Oracle, no matter having the Sight. Screw that, I wanted to be out in the ranks, fighting, being somewhat useful. I wasn't helpless, of course not, but I still felt a little... left out.

I find it's easier (and healthier) to stay honest with yourself; makes for a clearer head which I so desperately needed now of all times.

Down at the Big House, all the cabin leaders were pouring out it's doors, plus Chiron, Malcolm Nix, Piper McLean, and Cara Sargotti. The Hunters of Artemis were already jogging up to meet them.

I waved my hand over the disc and pushed myself up onto my feet. The door closed soundlessly behind me. I snatched the sketches of the table and again studied them, hoping for a sign, hoping for a light bulb over my head, hoping for some answers, hoping for at least a clue or _something. _But no, of course not. Nothing is ever that simple anymore.

I used to know exactly who I was and what I wanted and what I was supposed to do. I used to know how to deal with it all, my parents and their preppy private schools and their lack of care for what I believed in and their embarrassment that I wasn't born exactly like them. That? That was the easy part, that stuff I wouldn't even blink an eye at now, it was too simple, elementary, for me to waste time thinking about now. But I didn't have to deal with that now, did I? I had a new, much bigger problem to solve. Several of them actually.

I might have crumpled the pages up and thrown them across the room if I felt that would help anything. But I didn't, of course. I set them back down and began to pace because, even though I wasn't a demigod like everyone else here, I was still almost as restless as one. And as nervous for what was coming, though my part in a this I knew was only minutes away from occurring.


	10. Cemetery Drive

**The Dark Side of the Moon Series: Taken (Book 1)**

**Part 1: Lieutenant of the Shattered**

**Chapter 10: Cemetery Drive  
**

* * *

_The Underworld, the banks of the Lethe River  
_

_October 8th, 1:21 p.m._

_Nico di Angelo, Son of Hades, Head Councilor of the Hades Cabin, the Ghost King_

* * *

I kicked another small rock far off into the distance as I continued on my walk along the rough shores of the infamous Lethe River.

Everyone was where they should have been; no souls that needed to be kept at close distance so as to watch them better were out of place, whether they belonged in Punishment or Tartarus. So the likelihood that the Titans or someone equally as horrible as that lot was on the loose was now a considerably less likely possibility. Unless they had somehow broken out of their other various prisons around the globe, in which case dad would have to contact some of the other Olympians... no, Olympus was under lock down. He'd have to call someone else then. I bet not all of the minor gods were actually up on Olympus.

My headphones blasted into my consciousness something loud and disruptive, making it impossible to follow that train of thought, probably telling me to stop thinking about all that serious, depressing stuff.

Iris, the rainbow goddess and creator of I.M'ing, was almost definitely not on Olympus. She hardly ever came when called; I'd run into her a few times over the years in all sorts of odd places, and she was a pretty chill chick. Melinoe, the goddess of ghosts, had been to Olympus a grand total of twice, and she lived in a cave not far from here, so she definitely was not up in the home of the Olympians. Artemis wasn't on Olympus, obviously. Apollo may or not have been. Hestia... I don't know about her; there was a chance she wasn't. The last time I'd spoken with her was a couple of months ago, though it seemed much longer to my mortal mind. Tantalus was never on Olympus; he was much too busy with his job of guarding the Doors of Death, as always. He's actually a really easy-going guy; I stop by when I'm making my rounds to chat with him sometimes. The twins, Deimos and Phobos hardly dared to set foot near the Empire State Building; they loved terrorizing the human world too much. Hecate was probably attending to her many stores. And Persephone was still here too. Damn it.

I sent another dark rock flying away from me with my boot clad foot. It skimmed across the banks with it's dirty, rough sand and hopped into the roaring river.

But who would have even thought of committing an act such as this? Who would have actually gone through with that crazy thought and _done_ something like this? Hey, maybe it was just a practical joke on Olympus or something. Maybe one of the gods was taking revenge on Artemis or Apollo or Zeus or something like that. But no, of course not, that's just ridiculous; I'm just grasping for the surface of the ocean now. They wouldn't be making this big fiasco if that were the case anyway. Olympus was under lock down... Hmm... And with the Underworld closed, I just couldn't forget about all those souls. We definitely could not store them all in the lobby for long, all those wandering, lost souls... What about Camp Half-Blood? Were they shut down too because of this? Or were they the only ones left around this wasted Earth who might be able to something about this, be that last desperate hope?

The song switched once more. "The Pretender" by the Foo Fighters. Gods, this could be my theme song. It was too much of what I stood for, who I was for me to bare it in times like this, too fitting for the scene of my dark, lonely figure hunched over and padding along silently by the cool of the deep, dark river with the power to wipe away every last memory you possess. I forwarded the song until I came to another head banging, eardrum smashing piece that promised to never relent it's assault on my excellent hearing.

I wonder what the Hunt's up to now, now that their leader had been snatched away from them. Seriously, without Artemis they were practically just a bunch of rogue teenage girls, and that was a bloody (stop with the British, di Angelo!) nightmare if you ask me, in all complete honesty. But would they even be immortal anymore, retain that glow about them? Would they still maintain their precise and accurate skills with a bow and arrow? I needed to speak with Thalia. Yeah, I'll do that soon. Not right now though. She probably had a lot of shit to deal with as of the moment (even if we all did), so I decided I'd be nice and leave her alone. Besides, my brain was still fried thinking of other things. War was coming. I could feel it down to my bones, see it all around, feel it in the air; it was inevitable. Ares should be happy. That makes one of us in all this chaos. I swear, he's a freaking sadist, but never mind my scatterbrained thoughts.

Another rock gone sailing through the air like a bullet, or more accurately a missile, a nuke, something to have any sane person running for cover... Yeah, something along those melancholy lines.

Questions without their much craved answers, answers that could possibly help us win, win whatever this was. Wars without their proud generals, standing tall and brave above the masses, directing everyone and calming the chaos. So many secrets without the tales and stories of old to back them up. Nothing made sense anymore. Not like it ever did really. Something always has to go wrong. Always. Because apparently the Fates were dead set on me leading a miserable life, and, let me just say, they were doing a damn fine job of it. It seems like as soon as I had found out about this whole impossible world it was suddenly just all up in my face, clouding my mind and beating against the inside walls of my skull. Hey, Kronos is back. Sound the fucking alarm and grab a godsdamn sword because it doesn't matter if you're just a kid, he wants to kill you too, he wants to kill everyone and you gotta stop him because if no one does that's it, game over, world destruction, you lose. You don't get a break, even after all the shit you went through. No. There's just more fucking shit for you to deal with. Here, I'll serve you a fresh batch of pain and misery and all that horrible _shit_ on a silver platter.

Just keep walking, Nico. Breathe.

Keep walking.

Walking right along the uneven shoreline of the River Lethe. The river that will wipe all your memories clean with a single drop, just one solitary drop. The river that had the power to relieve all the pain, take it all away like it never even existed in the first place. All the misery and hopelessness and fear and anger and hatred and heartbreak and unfairness and blood and death and ghosts and all of the rest of the shit that world had to offer up to it's poor, lowly inhabitants. Ghosts, the lot of us. Just walking. Walking with no direction never going anywhere but never stopping. Lost souls. Ghosts.

_"And I will never be set free as long as I'm a ghost you can't see."_

_"And you're gone, gone, gone. I watched you disappear, and all that's left is a ghost of you."_

___"I'm just a ghost so I can't hurt you anymore." _

_"And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me. For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me... if I fall."_

Why are ghosts such a popular topic in songs? In poetry? In literature? In life? Ha! That's ironic. People waste their entire lives worrying about death, about becoming a wandering ghost for all eternity when, and here's the punchline, they already fucking are! Or they're just too afraid that they will just cease to exist after death and so dread it with every living breath they take. Hello! You're still alive; act like! But no, we really were all just doomed to the life and death, or rather nonexistence, weren't we? Of course, I, of all people, knew better. Death and ghosts. Two things that were all far too common in my life.

Kick another rock. Listen to another song. Skip another song that just makes it all too real. Take another deep breath. And walk another step further.

Was I really just that desperate enough to be rid of all my horrible memories and everything that went on around me as to walk into the Lethe River, cleanse my mind in it's mysterious, dark depths? Did I even have the guts to do it, the nerve, the recklessness, the insanity? Did I honestly have the heart to do that to everyone? But who would miss me, really? I'm not really needed here. We'll all lose eventually. Heroes often fail. And if they can't do it, how was I supposed to? Why? What's the point in starting a battle when you already know what the outcome of the war will be, who will rise victorious over the dark dawn.

It would be easy. It would be just oh so, _so _easy. It _should have _been easy. Just one drop would do me in forever, for eternity. It only took one. Just one, single, final step into oblivion.

I shook my head, sighing heavily as My Chemical Romance's "Famous Last Words" came on.

Just keep walking, Nico.

And just this one time, this early morning in hell, this journey through my own mind, this terrible day, though the song was such a painful reminder of all that was happening around me, fitting it all so perfectly, I did not skip ahead to a different one. I turned it up.

It took forever but at the same time only minutes before my IPod came to the end of my playlist and I dully took the ear-buds out of my ears before slowly wrapping them up around the shiny metal of the Apple product. I slid it into my back pocket, shoving my hands deep into the front ones. I glanced disdainfully at the rushing water at my feet, lapping at my leather bound boots. I pursed my lips slightly before shaking my head, my bangs flying around my face before I could blow them back. I stared at the river for a good while before shrugging to myself, the understatement of the millennium, and marching off to patrol some other part of this underworld or underworlds, this semi-imaginary abyss in darker than the deepest pits of Tartarus.

No, not the Lethe, I thought with a hard set jaw and a sort of grim determination firing through my body, carrying me on my feet steadily further still. But I still needed something, some solution. But what else could offer that, I mean really, truly solve this? That's right, nothing.

Another step. A sigh. And a slightly daring, mostly grave smile adorning my features, one that had not possessed my mouth for some time now, since I felt the need to do something, since I felt purpose, since I felt like I _could_ do it, since I felt important, since I felt like... a would be, once upon a time vigilante.

_Heroes often fail._ One of my earlier points.

Well then, it's a damn fine thing I'm not one. To the Styx it is.


End file.
